


Hard Knocks

by DiscoNight



Series: Daddy Even [2]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Daddy Kink, Depression, Friendship, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscoNight/pseuds/DiscoNight
Summary: Isak hardens his expression, trying not give into his feelings of resentment: that he will always come second to Even’s bipolar, that he will never be able to stop the depressive episodes from happening, and there will always be periods of their lives when they both feel utterly alone.The thoughts are so ugly that he hates himself for them. He hates himself enough to numb the anxiety he’s feeling, and the numbness pushes him out of the house and into the warm night air where the party awaits him, a few neighbourhoods away.++Even's depressive episodes are difficult for both him and Isak to cope with. When a frightening experience leaves Isak unable to talk to his friends, and not wishing to impact further on Even's current state of mind, things go from bad to worse.In the end, though, they'll always be there for each other to pick up the pieces.(Please heed the tags: this is heavy going but it is angst with a happy ending, I promise.)





	1. Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to try and slip this one out quietly before S4 makes this whole 21k fic obsolete :/ (Isak and Even freaking MOVING IN TOGETHER has already basically done that, fml. But also OMG. So many new plot bunnies already arising from that clip *cries in Norwegian*)
> 
> This is kind of an odd story and I'm not really sure I'm 100% happy with it? But anyway, to summarise: it's a fairly lengthy three-parter in my 'Daddy Even' verse which isn't particularly kinky at ALL, though there is some sex in part 3 (so maybe try waiting for that if you don't want to read the angst...) This does vaguely reference Gymslip but you don't need to have read that in order to read this.
> 
> I wanted to do a fic that focused on the effect of Even's bipolar, particularly the depression side of things, on the gentle dom/sub relationship that Even and Isak have in this verse. I tried to keep the focus on depression respectful and non-sensationalist. But I'm also addicted to angst and plot, and this fic is the uneasy result. Like I said, I'm not all that happy with the final result but it's written now, and I haven't got the energy or time to endlessly rewrite it, so hopefully someone will enjoy it.
> 
> I'll post parts 2 and 3 over the next week or so; the whole fic is written so I'll just update when I have time. 
> 
> Comments would be absolute love. <333
> 
> Trigger Warnings at the end of the fic to avoid spoilers: jump to them by clicking the link below.

On a sunny Friday afternoon, Isak is walking home with his friends. His phone is in his hand as he stares down anxiously at the screen, waiting for a text or reassurance from Even that he’s okay, that he’s at home and resting. His boyfriend crashed hard last night, after a relatively managed manic episode, and all Isak wants to do is crawl into bed with him and hold him until he feels better.

He knows that Even’s mum is taking good care of him, and that he doesn’t need to be there every minute of every day, but he’s never able to relax when this happens. Every part of him yearns to be _close_ to Even, to see for himself he’s okay, to reassure them both through sheer force of presence that they’re still together, they still work, that everything is fine.  Even if his boyfriend barely acknowledges he’s there, Isak is sure he takes some comfort in it.

“I’m, um...” he starts, when Magnus begins to discuss the party tonight, and he strengthens his resolve when they glance over at him, already suspicious as to what he’s going to say. “I’m going to give it a miss, guys.”

Jonas looks at him closely and raises one eyebrow. His expression is mostly placid but Isak recognises a tiny edge to it which makes him bite into his lip.  “Why?”

“Even, right?” Magnus asks, a little more understandingly. Isak nods, his eyes dropping to the ground.  He doesn’t like to talk about Even when he’s down. It always ends up feeling like a betrayal.

“Come on, Isak,” Jonas says imploringly. “He’s not going to want you staying in and moping over him.  He wouldn’t want that for you.”

Isak knows in theory that this argument works. It would work better if Isak _wanted_ to be at the party instead of with Even, but his friends don’t understand that pull from within him that makes everything seem duller and greyer and more difficult when he hasn’t got Even’s supportive touch on his waist.

“Besides,” Mahdi says, “We need to be at full capacity in case shit goes down with the… you know… _drug thing_.”

The final words are spoken in a hushed whisper that nonetheless seems to travel down the residential street; Jonas’s eyes dart around and, satisfied nobody is behind them, he scowls at Mahdi. “A bit of discretion, please.”

“I whispered it!” Mahdi argues loudly.

Magnus laughs out loud.  “This isn’t fucking _Narcos_ , Jonas. It’s chill.”

Jonas stops walking suddenly and turns so he’s standing in front of his three friends, his eyes narrowed in warning. Isak tries to force himself to pay attention but his phone stays in his hands, and he keeps glancing down at it hopefully.

“Look, I’m telling you, these guys _don’t_ fuck around.  If we’re going to do this we need to be fucking smart about it.”

And then, as if by magic, Isak’s phone vibrates. He blinks at the screen as realisation settles over him.  Even. Even has finally texted.

E: _Love you angel. I’m still at home and I’m ok x_

He doesn’t hear what they’re talking about now - just bits and pieces that circulate aimlessly and don’t quite reach the processing part of his brain. Instead, he focuses on not crying. It’s _just_ what he needed to hear after a long day at school and he feels that familiar rush of affection for his boyfriend that’s as heady as drugs. Even in the depths of a depressive episode, Even is still able to pull himself out of for a moment in order to send Isak something reassuring. Not for the first time, Isak wonders what he did to deserve this perfect, caring guy in his life.

Whenever he asks himself that question, though, he tends to draw a blank.

“Isak?” Jonas is saying. “Are you listening?”

He looks up and manages a weak smile.  “Yes?”

“Liar,” Jonas says, but his tone isn’t unkind and he returns the smile. “Look, if you don’t want to get involved, that’s fine.  You know what these guys are like, you’ve been with me before when we’ve bought shit.  Just… be alert, okay?  If we need you?”

 _I still don’t want to go_ , Isak thinks to himself.

But the three of them are staring at him expectantly and he finds himself nodding.

“Okay. I’ll… be alert.” He salutes playfully. “ _Escobar season_. Let’s do this.”

Jonas laughs, finally satisfied, and they continue the walk home. Isak looks back at the message and wonders how best to reply, before deciding that face to face is better than anything he can communicate via his phone. He's never been great with words.

 

* * *

 

He gets ready for the party with a weird sluggishness that saps the energy out of him and leaves him feeling brittle. At one point, Noora knocks on the door and asks him if he wants to go together, but he’s already set his mind on diverting to Even’s house first. He knows that Even won’t say no to him going to the party, not when he’s like this. He also knows he won’t particularly say yes either. But seeing his boyfriend’s face will help Isak to get his head together for long enough to be assertive in his decision-making for once.

When he arrives, a little after 9pm, Even’s mum greets him with a quick hug. “He’s eaten a little.  He hasn’t spoken to me yet. The first few days are generally the worst.”

Isak nods. He knows that by now but he can see she’s eager to talk to someone about this, simply to say it out loud. Even’s dad is away on business and the atmosphere in the house, from the moment he walks in, clamps him in like a vise.

“Can I go in?” he asks. She nods, absentmindedly stroking his hair out of his face. From the moment Isak met Even’s mum, he realised where Even got his tactile nature from. Isak pretends to be weirded out about it to Even but truthfully, he loves how easily this family show affection for one another.

“Perhaps it’s best for you not to stay too long?  I know how draining it can feel when he’s like this. Besides,” she says, taking in his appearance with a smile, “You look like you’re going somewhere?”

“Oh,” Isak says, frowning, as he glances down at his outfit, which is a little smarter than his usual uniform of hoodies and sweatpants.  “I was invited to a party but I thought.... Well, if Even needs me more, I’d prefer to stay?” He says it hopefully but she doesn’t seem to pick up on that.

“Nonsense.  Go and speak to him and let him know you’re okay, because he worries about that. And then go and enjoy yourself.”

Isak nods again, because Even’s mum’s voice is almost as authoritative as Even’s, just in a different way (which is just as well, because… that would be  _weird_ if she ordered him around in the way that Even does.)

He smiles weakly and then moves down the hallway until he reaches Even’s bedroom door. He opens the door to find the light off, but the lamp light next to his bed on. He stands there for a moment, trying to work out if Even is awake, and then takes a deep breath and walks quietly over to peer up.

Even is awake and staring into space. He doesn’t appear to have registered Isak’s presence but Isak still feels something unravel within him; whether it’s a good or bad feeling, he has no idea, but a moment ago he was wound tight and now he’s spinning, lost at the sight of his boyfriend.

“Hey,” he says. He ascends the steps to the loft bed and climbs over Even until he’s spooning into him.  He inhales Even’s hair, a slightly musty two-day old smell that comforts him nonetheless. “I missed you.”

“Hm?” Even asks.

“Yeah. I missed you a lot. Thank you again for the text today.”

Even doesn’t say anything but he pulls Isak’s hands closer to his chest and Isak almost loses it at that. He tries not to cry but all he wants to do is hold Even until he’s through this, and he knows that he’s not supposed to do that, that everyone is concerned about the impact that Even’s episodes have on him, but in that moment he doesn’t care.

None of them get it, not really. They don’t understand that being apart from Even is the thing that hurts him the most. It just… it usually feels as though he doesn’t _work_ without Even.

“Are you hungry?” he asks. Even doesn’t answer with words, just a long sigh.

“Have you slept?”

“All day.” Even’s deep voice is mechanical, unfeeling, but it’s actual words, and sometimes Even can’t manage those at all in the first few days. For Isak, it's a sign of encouragement.

“I got my biology marks back today.  I got a six,” he says. “The teacher told the whole class that _I was the one to beat_ and it was super embarrassing.  Sana hit me because she said my ego was getting too big.  I think I’ve got a bruise.” He laughs quietly but Even doesn’t say anything.

He takes a deep breath. Time to drop the party bomb.

“Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas have, like, decided they’re going to buy a shit ton of drugs at a party tonight. They’re going to sell them and split the money up between them as they’re all broke at the moment.” He waits for a reaction but Even doesn’t stir. “They want me to go as well.  They said I don’t have to be involved, other than… you know... back up, if something goes wrong?”

_Please tell me not to go.  Tell me to stay with you._

Even doesn’t speak.

“So is it okay?” Isak asks. Desperately, he tries, “Daddy?”  He wants it to reach some primal part of Even’s brain, for that protective instinct to kick in. He knows that depression doesn’t work like that, that there’s no _snapping him out of it_ , but he tries anyway. He has to try.

But then he realises; Even’s shoulders are rising and falling gently, his breathing audible.  He’s fallen back asleep.

Isak had prepared himself for the possibility of Even not answering, and not forbidding him to go. He’d even prepared himself for Even telling him, in a hollow voice, that he _should_ go. He hadn’t really thought about Even sleeping straight through the prepared speech.

He blinks back tears, hating Even’s bipolar in that moment, hating the rest of the world for continuing to spin on its axis when his boyfriend is like this. He burrows down deeper into Even’s bed, needing to be as close to Even as possible, hoping that he’ll will wake up again soon, but time passes by and an hour later, nothing has changed. Even continues to sleep.

At one point, Isak’s phone vibrates in his pocket; he doesn’t need to check it to know it will be Jonas or Magnus, asking him where he is.

There are no more excuses he can make for himself. Even will sleep for the rest of the night, and even if he wakes up, he’s in no fit state to hear Isak worrying about a stupid party. Equally, Isak’s friends are expecting him there, and he doesn’t want to keep letting them down. He blows off social arrangements so easily these days; if Even isn’t able to attend, for whatever reason, Isak usually finds an excuse not to attend too.

He tentatively eases himself off the bed and looks at the sleeping figure one last time before climbing back down to ground level.

The night awaits him and he checks his phone. Sure enough, Jonas has texted him the address of the party with a short message.

J: _See you soon x_

Isak hardens his expression, trying not give into his feelings of resentment: that he will always come second to Even’s bipolar, that he will never be able to stop the depressive episodes from happening, and there will always be periods of their lives when they both feel utterly alone.

The thoughts are so ugly that he hates himself for them. He hates himself enough to numb the anxiety he’s feeling, and the numbness pushes him out of the house and into the warm night air where the party awaits him, a few neighbourhoods away.

 

* * *

 

When he arrives, it strikes him that he has no idea who is actually hosting this tonight. He rings the doorbell several times, pushing his hands against the doorframe and rolling his eyes grumpily while he waits. When it finally opens, he finds himself face to face with Nils, his least favourite second years in the world. He instinctively takes a few steps back.

Nils smiles - if you can describe the predatory look that crosses his face as a smile - and his eyes rake up and down Isak’s body in a way that leaves him feeling unclean.

“Hm. I’m not sure I should let you in,” he says, pretending to think out loud. “That psycho boyfriend of yours isn’t lurking round the corner, is he?”

 _Fuck this noise_ , Isak thinks. He isn’t going to beg Nils to enter, and he certainly isn’t going to listen to him insulting Even. He starts to walk away when Nils laughs, grabbing his arm.

“Come _on_ , Isak, it’s a joke. You know what a joke is, right?  Considering Even almost took my head off the last time I saw him, I think I’m within my rights to call him that.”

“He did that because you-”

“Because I looked at you in a way he didn’t like? Come on. You’re fucking delicious, and he knows it. What did he expect?”

The memory still burns in Isak’s mind and he is genuinely close to leaving when Jonas appears from behind Nils, his face lighting up when he sees him. “Hey, Is, what are you doing standing out there?”

Nils looks between them and his grip on Isak’s arm eases off slightly, so it becomes a casual, inoffensive gesture.  The feel of his hand makes Isak’s skin crawl but he doesn’t want to draw attention to it, not in front of Jonas. “I’m trying to persuade him in, man.  He isn’t sure.”

Jonas huffs, pushing Nils aside (Isak registers the split second annoyance in Nils’ eyes) and brings his arm around Isak’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ve got to talk to you.”

And so Isak is swept past the host of the party, though he can feel his eyes bearing into him, and into the throng of people dancing and drinking and kissing and talking under dim lights. It’s cold inside, because the patio doors at the back of the living room have been left open. The population of guests spill out into the garden. It’s packed out, and Isak feels dread curling in his stomach. He’s come from the still and silence of Even’s bedroom to _this_ and he hates it.

“You should have seen it,” Jonas is telling him, as he leads Isak through to the kitchen where Mahdi and Magnus are sitting at the table, talking animatedly. “Magnus looked like he was going to piss himself when the guy handed the stuff to him.”

“Fuck you!” Magnus says, though he is grinning widely, his face flushed through with adrenaline.  “He was huge. Like, as tall as Even!” He stretches his hand up vaguely. “But twice as wide.”

Isak sits down next to him, and Jonas hands him a beer can. “He wasn’t that big,” Jonas mouths, and Isak smiles widely.

“So it all went okay?” he asks. His three friends make affirmative gestures. 

“We’ve got the weekend to sell them. We’ve already shifted some. Anything we don’t sell, we give back Monday after school, and they split the profits with us.  Sixty-forty.”

“Sixty for them?”

Magnus nods, and Isak shakes his head.

“Is it even worth it?”

“Seriously, we’ve already made two and a half thousand krone and we’ve only sold a quarter of it.  It’s easy money,” Mahdi says enthusiastically.  “Are you sure you don’t want in?  They’ll give us more if we’ve got an extra person selling.”

Isak tries not to look at him too incredulously. His immediate thought is of how furious Even would be with him if he found out he was involved with anything even  _remotely_ dangerous, let alone drug pushing, but his friends don’t know that. They don’t entirely understand his relationship with Even, not even Jonas, and Isak would prefer to keep it that way.

“It’s not like you don’t need the money,” Magnus says, in that way he has of speaking with no absolutely filter.  “I thought you couldn’t make your rent this month?”

Isak has nothing to say to that.  He’s right, of course; Isak’s dad has refused to pay his rent until Isak visits his mum, and Isak was moaning about it the other day. He hadn’t told his friends the full details, that the last time Isak had tried visiting his mum at home, he’d ended up with a cut along his arm where she’d thrown a glass at him and called him the antichrist.

“Look, it’s cool,” Jonas says, changing the subject when he sees Isak’s expression shifting. “It’s just an idea.  Let us know if you want in.”

Isak nods, and manages a small smile; Jonas reaches out to squeeze his shoulder before winking at him in a _Got your back_ gesture. 

“I saw Vilde arrive a little while ago” he says to Magnus, whose face lights up in almost childlike delight. “But of course, you’re here to work, right?”

Magnus’s face drops almost as quickly as it perked up, and Jonas holds his expression for a moment before laughing.

“Seriously, man, go and _chat_ to her.” He smirks at Mahdi on the word _chat_. “There’s always the party tomorrow to shift it.”

Magnus nods, gratified, until something makes him frown. “Um, can you guys hold onto my… my _cut_ ? If we hook up she might, you know, be feeling around _down there_.”

“Where are you _keeping_ it, Magnus?!” Isak asks, as the other two fall about laughing.  Magnus blushes.

“I just mean in my pockets!” He hooks out a large bag and Jonas looks around furtively.  There are a few people in the kitchen but nobody is looking at them.  Not yet, anyway.

“Fucking hell, man, put it away.”

“But… what about Vilde?”

He looks at Mahdi who shakes his head resolutely and then at Jonas who looks equally as adamant. “I’m not carrying more than my stash, man. Forget about it.”

So, naturally, Magnus looks at Isak, with wide eyes and a pleading expression. “Please, Issy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Isak says grumpily.

“Just… an hour, okay? I promise I’ll get it back off of you at the end of the party.” He frowns when he sees Isak’s face isn’t shifting.  “You looked after Mahdi’s that time, at Eva’s party?”

Isak feels Magnus’s gaze boring into him, desperate, and he rolls his eyes, knowing Magnus is right. If he refuses now it’s going to look like he’s changed. And Isak is, for some reason, desperate for his friends not to think that about him. He grabs the bag and shoves it into his back pocket.

“Thanks, man, I owe you,” Magnus says.

“Yeah, you do,” Isak tells him, but Magnus is already halfway out the room.

“Shall we go and rejoin the party?” Mahdi asks. Jonas looks at Isak who shrugs. _Rejoining the party_ means being in the same room as Nils, but Isak can’t hide in the kitchen all night, particularly when he knows Jonas and Mahdi are keen to shift some more gear.  So he picks up his beer can and follows them back through. Jonas and Mahdi immediately split up, wandering off in separate directions with determination on their faces, and Isak stands awkwardly on his own until he sees Nils making his way towards him.

He looks round frantically and sees Noora, Eva, Sana and Chris laughing and talking animatedly on one of the sofas. He heads towards it without a second thought and sits down on Eva’s lap as she squeals with indignation.

“You’re too heavy!”

“Even says I’m light as a feather.”

“Even is a monster,” she tells him bluntly, and the girls all laugh. Even Isak allows himself a genuine smile.  It’s good to hear them talking about Even as though he’s not dead, which is what usually seems to happen during his depressive episodes: the hushed, muted tones, the ambiguous questions: _Is he… okay? Doing better? Getting enough rest?_

For a time, Isak tries to focus on being sociable within the conversation, and the girls’ company allows him to think of something other than Even. They’re laughing about Vilde and Magnus’s pure lack of discretion as he’d approached her and asked her if she wanted to join him ‘somewhere a little quieter’, and her wide, nervous smile as she’d nodded her head and followed him out of the room. “Two excited puppies,” Sana surmises, with unusual fondness.

“Two horny dogs,” Chris replies, a little more bluntly.

He’s always grateful to the girls for being so easy to talk to. Even Sana, though she roasts him on a regular basis, is one of the best friends he’s ever had. But then he’s brought back to reality when Eva says to him, “You’ve got an admirer.”

Isak looks at her in confusion and she darts her eyes over to where Nils is now standing with his friends, still looking at him.

He feels himself tense up and he shakes his head.  “Eva…”

“It’s just an observation,” she says, prodding him good-naturedly in the shoulder. “I’m not saying you like him back!”

“I don’t,” he says, but maybe it comes out quicker and more defensively than he intended because she gives him a strange smile. “He’s probably looking at one of you.”

“Trust me, he isn’t. And you do know that it’s okay to be looked at, right? You’re so cute, guys will notice you sometimes. It isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

Isak feels himself closing off slightly. He doesn’t need this motivational pep talk, inspired by a guy who _does_ make him feel ashamed. He doesn’t want to be in Nils’ house, even if he is surrounded by friends. So he’s incredibly grateful for the distraction when Chris comes back from the kitchen, shots loaded up in her hands.

They down a few each, and then he chases them with a double whiskey and cola, and then another, and it feels a lot like he’s being careless and that Even would be worried if he could see him, but he doesn’t know how else he’s going to get through tonight.

When he eventually stands up, the room is spinning slightly and he stumbles to the bathroom in order to relieve himself. He realises with clarity as he’s washing his hands that he doesn’t want to be here, but not just that: he finally tells himself he shouldn’t have come when he was already feeling down. The realisation liberates him temporarily. He’s going to go home, so he can be up bright and early tomorrow morning. He’ll go round to Even’s house, he’ll spend all day with him, he’ll aim to make him smile at least once. It’s the only thing that’s going to make him feel better.

As he unlocks the bathroom door, though, he finds himself face to face with the tall and imposing figure of Nils. One of his eyebrows is raised in amusement; he’s clearly been waiting for Isak to come out.

“Need a hand in there?”

“Fuck off,” he says, because, yeah, he’s absolutely one hundred percent done with this night. He tries to push past him but Nils shoves him so that he’s against the wall. Isak tries to rear forward but Nils pushes again, and Isak’s limbs feel boneless and tired. He doesn’t want to cause a scene, he doesn’t want to get into a fight, so he tells himself he’ll count to ten and then get out of here.

“You know, your friends were pretty fucking rude to me earlier considering I set up their little money-making venture.” Isak blinks at him, not understanding, and Nils smiles.  “Wow, you’re even cuter when you pull that dumb expression. I middle man for The Crew. The ones supplying the batch they're currently selling _at my house_. So you kind of owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” Isak tells him. He tries to move again but this time Nils is ready and he grabs hold of both of Isak’s arms, immobilising him. The door is just there, wide open, but nobody will see them unless they walk through this quieter part of the house. “I’ve got nothing to do with this.”

“Seriously? Your friends didn’t let you in on the deal?” He leans his head back, as if assessing Isak, and then smiles mockingly. “Maybe it’s a good idea. The Crew have started pimping out pretty faces like yours. They might have got confused about what you were doing there.”

Okay, maybe he’s more like one hundred and _ten_ percent done at this point.

“Look, if there’s a point to this conversation, can you make it? I was actually leaving.”

“There is, actually,” Nils says. “I was wondering why you’re not here with Even?”

Isak shakes his head.  No.  No way is he going to discuss Even with Nils.  He physically pushes against Nils chest, trying to move him, but Nils slides his hands down, grabbing Isak’s wrists and circling them tightly. Isak feels something cold run through him, an understanding of how bad this could get. He tries to struggle free but Nils just grins at him.

“Well?”

His hands become tighter still, pressing into Isak’s wrist bones, and Isak bites into his lip to avoid giving Nils the satisfaction of hearing him whimper in pain.

“Even is _nothing_ to do with you.”

“Sensitive subject?” Nils asks him. Isak glares at him balefully and Nils grins before dropping his wrists. Isak’s rubs them slightly, his mind still signalling for danger because Nils hasn’t stepped away yet. “Anyway,” the second year boy continues, “as he isn’t here, he can’t stop me from doing this.”

He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and Isak eyes it suspiciously.

“Relax, it’s just my number,” Nils says, leaning forward to whisper it gently in his ear.  “I really want you to text me something sexy. It’s, like… a recurring fantasy of mine.”

And then he’s pressing his lips against Isak’s lips, his tongue probing, and Isak freezes. Everything within him seizes up, leaves him rigid with fear, and he stands there dumbly as Nils deepens the kiss, his hand coming down to his ass to grope him. But Isak barely registers it. His eyes mist over, the world seems to slow to a snail’s pace as Nils continues to attempt to extract a reaction from him other than blind, crippling fear. Nils moves his hands back to Isak’s waist and then starts to lifts Isak’s shirt, and something snaps from within as Isak remembers he _can_ react.

So he bites down, hard, and Nils yelps in pain and takes a couple of steps back.

And that’s enough for Isak to push his way out of the bathroom, tasting blood and breathing too quickly and needing this to stop… needing everything to _stop_.

He blindly opens doors until he finds one leading out to the side of the house. He doesn’t want to pass anyone, he doesn’t want to explain what happened, he simply wants to leave, to go home, to push this memory away until it becomes insignificant enough to forget.

 

* * *

 

The journey home barely registers in his mind.  He walks quickly, his arms wrapped around his stomach, the feeling of nausea accompanying him all the way there. Only when he’s back inside the apartment, and the door is locked behind him, does he allow himself to admit he’s safe.

He heads straight to the bathroom. He wants to shower, to get rid of Nils’ touch and smell.   _It will make you feel better_ , he tells himself. _You can give yourself five minutes of self-pity and then after that you’re going to move on._

As sensible as the idea is, it doesn’t work. Because as he takes off his jeans, removing his phone and wallet from the pockets, it occurs to him that maybe something is missing. And then he remembers dimly, and suddenly lucidly, that Magnus had entrusted him to look after his share of the drugs to be sold.  

The drugs that are no longer in his back pocket….

...the back pocket where Nils’ phone number has been stuffed, in a mockery of a replacement.

Isak leans against the wall, his breath ragged with fear, and a certainty pounding within his chest. The day has been too much for him. He’s failed miserably on whatever sick test the powers-that-be decided to put him through.

 _I can’t go back to the party_ , he realises with certainty. _I can’t do this. I can’t do any of this without Even._

 

* * *

 

He tells himself that he has to do _something_ , though. So he texts Nils as soon as he’s out of the shower, his screen fogging up from the heat fumes as he tries to work out what to say while causing the least amount of conflict.

I: _I know what you took. You need to give them back to Magnus. Right now._

No sooner has he sent it does he see that Nils is replying.  He stares at his phone warily, wiping the condensation off the screen, and then the text comes through, quickly followed by another.

N: _Took what? You’re not making any sense?_

N: _Fun night by the way. Can’t wait to do it again soon. Can’t wait for you to be even filthier next time ;-)_

The sheer awfulness of this situation overwhelms Isak. His mind is fighting him every step of the way: it tells him he’s weak, it tells him this is his fault, it tells him he deserves every shitty thing that’s sure to come his way as a result of not noticing what Nils was doing in the bathroom, besides groping him.

He admits defeat. He switches his phone to flight mode, crawls into bed and pulls the covers up over his head. Then he drifts aimlessly in and out of sleep for hours, until dawn creeps through the windows and the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach grows and grows.

Magnus will be wondering what’s going on by now. He’ll be telling himself that of _course_ Isak still has the drugs, that he’ll be able to come over today to get them. Look at the situation with Sana finding Mahdi’s stash; the stash that Isak had also agreed to look after, he’ll remind himself. Isak came through in the end there as well.

Except that had been different. Mahdi owned those drugs.  He hadn’t owed a drug racket any money for them.  And most importantly… Nils isn’t Sana; Nils is sketchy and gross and everything Isak doesn’t want to be near.

Isak looks across at his phone.  It’s still on flight mode. He realises that he’ll have to face the reactions of his friends, of Magnus in particular, and that he’ll need to tell the truth.  

So he swipes flight mode off and waits for the notifications to come through.  And they do. Immediately.

But only one… no, two… are about the drugs. The rest are a litany of missed calls, and messages about something entirely different. Isak sits up slightly in bed, frowning down at the screen.

Eva: _Isak is it true that you and Nils hooked up?! I can’t believe Vilde would lie about something like this but maybe she was mistaken? Fucking call me_

Jonas: _What the fuck is going on, Nils is apparently bragging to his friends that he hooked up with you and Vilde is saying she saw you? Pick up Isak_

Thomas: _Is it true you fucked around with another guy while Even is depressed? What the fuck is wrong with you?_

Marianne: _If what people are saying is true I’m going to be telling Even as soon as he’s better. What kind of a slut does that when his boyfriend is already thinking about committing suicide? You better stay away from me and the rest of his friends at school_

Nils: _Come on baby, truth is out now, just come round and we’ll talk about it x_

Isak recoils in horror as the messages continue to flood through, from his own friends and from Even’s friends and even some from Nils’ friends. He tries to remember what happened during the kiss that would have led Vilde to assume he’d wanted it in some way. He had frozen, he remembers that much. He hadn’t even registered Nils taking the drugs, or Vilde watching them through the door that had been right next to him.

Could he have looked as though he was enjoying it? _Had_ he enjoyed it?

He blinks back tears which he hasn’t realised had sprung from his eyes until he feels them creeping down his cheekbones. Even his own friends seem to believe it had happened… but then again, Vilde had told them, hadn’t she? So it really shouldn’t come as a surprise. Vilde isn’t the type to maliciously lie. If she thought she’d seen it, people would have no reason to doubt her.

 _Unlike you. People know_ you’ve _been lying your entire life._

He puts his phone down, slumps his head back to the pillow and stares up at the ceiling. _This is fine_ , he tries to tell himself. _You’re going to speak to Vilde. You’re going to explain what happened. You’re going to fix this._

His self-motivational exercise is interrupted by a small knock on the door. He blinks and says, “Yes?” and then Eskild pops his head around the door, followed by Noora. They both stare at him cautiously.

“Isak-”

“Hm?”

“Is… uh, is everything… okay?” Eskild asks him. His voice is quieter voice than usual, and it doesn’t make Isak feel any more at ease. In fact his head is whirling with panic again. He knows why they’re here, and that they’ll want to talk about Nils. If they ask him about what happened in the bathroom, he has no idea what he’s going to say.

“Sure,” he says, his voice thick, and he clears it. “Sure. Yes. Everything’s okay.”

“Have you checked your phone this morning?”Noora asks, with a little more bluntness than Eskild’s measured tone. They both look down at him and he bites his lip before nodding his head. He keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?”

The suspicion in her voice is clear and he feels himself tense up at it. He glances across to see Eskild looking at her warningly, before saying, “Isak, we all make mistakes. And you always put yourself under so much pressure when Even is down. Just… talk to us.”

So… _wow_. Even Eskild has assumed the worst about him.

“It wasn’t…”

He trails off, trying to find the right words, and then they hear the doorbell ringing, frantically and insistently, and his stomach sinks even further.   _Fuck_. He knows that will be for him. He looks at Eskild with a panicked expression, and he hurries out of the room as Noora continues to stare.

“Isak-”

“Noora,” he butts in, “I’m sorry but I’m really feeling shit and hungover right now. Can you go tell-”

 But he doesn’t have a chance to finish.  He hears someone coming down the hallway and looks to his bedroom door, which kind of feels like Central Station at the moment, to see Jonas and Magnus coming through, Eskild following after them looking sheepish.

“Isak,” Jonas says, the word stretched out. “Can you tell Magnus he’s worrying for nothing, please? Tell him you still have the-” He looks at Eskild and then at Noora and then at Isak meaningfully, “the… phone? His phone.”

Eskild rolls his eyes.  “Jonas, it’s completely unnecessary to lie.”

Isak climbs out of bed as four sets of eyes watch him. He grabs a towel hanging by the window, still damp through from his late night shower; he grabs his phone, and then he tries to get past the barrier of concerned friends at the door.

He looks at Magnus properly and sees the wide, fearful eyes. He crumples under his gaze and takes a deep breath.

“Magnus, I -” he begins, falters, then takes a deep breath. “I lost them. I lost the packet.”

“You… you _lost_ them?” Jonas asks. He looks at Magnus, who is staring at Jonas with an incredulous look on his face.  He reciprocates this, and then they both turn to Isak. “What do you mean, you _lost_ them?”

“I mean...I put them in my back pocket, you guys saw me. And then they must have fallen out. Or maybe someone stole them? But I haven’t got them anymore and I don’t know where they are.  I’m sorry.”

Magnus makes a small, choked noise and Jonas continues to stare at him as though he’s just sprung an extra head.

“Maybe you can… I don’t know, charge more for the drugs you still have. You’ve got another party tonight, haven’t you? I can help?”

“Isak, there were a fucking shitload of drugs there! We’re not going to make that money back, even if Mahdi and I sell every last inch of our supply.  And nobody is going to pay over the odds for fucking _weed_ ,” Jonas spits out, furious. Isak flinches at the sound of his voice. He hates when Jonas is angry with him, because it so rarely happens.

“Look… are you sure that you didn’t leave it at Nils when you… you know?” Noora asks. Isak shakes his head, feeling humiliated at this intense focus on his actions.

“I _didn’t_!” he says. “I didn’t… he cornered me in the bathroom, he was drunk as fuck. I didn’t _hook up_ with him.” He looks around at each of them and realises instinctively: none of them trust him. They’re all staring at him with either suspicion or concern and he makes an exasperated noise before pushing past Jonas to try and get out of the door. Jonas catches his wrist for a moment, attempting to keep him in place, and Isak gasps at it, reminded of Nils’ grip on him last night.

Jonas sees his panicked expression and steps back, the others following his lead.

 _Fuck them all. Fuck them for thinking the worst about me_ , he fumes as he heads to the bathroom.

Once he’s in the shower he scrubs his skin again. It’s still red from where he scrubbed last night but he can’t get clean. Every time he thinks about Nils’ hands on him, he scrubs harder. And as he can’t _stop_ thinking about it, he’s in there until his skin is raw.

Once he’s out he feels no clearer about what he needs to do today. He checks his phone again. There are more accusatory messages on there that have come through in the last half hour, and two more from Nils.

His mind continues to buzz with abject fear as he wraps the towel around his waist and heads back to his bedroom which is now mercifully empty. He keeps an ear out for an indication as to whether they’ve all moved into the kitchen or living room but the place seems silent.

Once the door is closed he gets dressed quickly and then looks down at his phone. He knows he isn’t going to get the drugs back from Nils without going round to get them, and that _isn’t_ happening. He quickly texts Magnus.

I: _I’m sorry, I’ll help you at the party tonight i promise._

 

M: _Just stay away tonight isak, we’ll try and sort it ourselves._

 

It stings, but Isak isn’t sure what else he could have expected. The situation feels unwieldy even within his own head; he can’t imagine what they’re all saying and thinking about him right now. He doesn’t want to. His brain keeps coming back to Even and all he can think about is being close to him. Even if he can’t tell Even about what happened - not yet, at any rate - he can feel that closeness and he can be reassured by it.

He pulls on his coat, slips on his trainers and heads out, ignoring Eskild’s concerned voice calling after him as he does so.

 

* * *

 

Even is still heavy and drawn, barely responsive to Isak’s presence. He allows Isak to scoot into the crescent of his curled up body; he doesn’t protest when Isak wraps his arm round his waist. Interlinking their hands, before he brings Even’s hand up to his mouth to run his lips across it. But to protest he’d have to talk, and he isn’t talking again today.

So they stay like this for hours, the pair of them drifting in and out of sleep for all of Saturday, until the early hours of Sunday creep in. And then it’s Sunday morning and Even’s mum is bringing them breakfast, which Even eats in slow, methodical bitefuls while Isak watches him and smiles encouragingly.

He doesn’t eat any himself, and Even doesn’t notice. Isak knows that isn’t Even’s fault; of _course_ he wouldn’t notice Isak hasn’t eaten anything since he arrived yesterday, but he _wishes_ he would. Even takes care of Isak so well when he isn’t depressive. He’s always so concerned with making sure Isak eat well and sleep well. He is tuned into every single one of his needs.

Isak thinks about the way Even physically wrestles him into a seat in the kitchen on some mornings, because he thinks breakfast is _so important_. Isak smiles at the thought, and forces himself to take a slice of toast.

“Something funny?” Even asks. It’s the first time he’s spoken since Isak arrives, and Isak lights up at it.

“Do you remember that time you made me… _huevos rancheros_? For breakfast? Did I say it right? And it was fucking gross?”

“It was not gross,” Even exclaims, without any kind of indignation, but it’s an actual sentence, and that means everything to Isak right now.

"You said yourself, it was healthy. And healthy means gross.” He smiles, and though he only receives a ghost of a smile back, it’s a small victory for Isak. “But,” he adds sincerely, “I like you cooking me breakfast. Even though I’ll never admit it when you’re doing it.”

Even looks at him and smiles faintly again.

“You can spank me for that, if you want. I don’t mind.”

And then the smile drops from Even’s face and Isak tries not to physically recoil. _Nope_ . _Nope nope nope._ He hadn’t wanted to make it weird. He hadn’t wanted to be inappropriate. He’d just… he’d wanted to make Even laugh. _Fuck_ , what was wrong with him?

“You shouldn’t let me do that,” Even tells him. “I don’t… I shouldn’t do that to you.”

“But-” _But that’s our relationship_ , Isak thinks, which is stupid, because he knows it _isn’t_ their relationship. But it’s an important part of their dynamic: the way Even cares for him, and cares _about_ him, enough to show him how to be better, when he fucks up. “I like it,” he says, smiling weakly. “It makes me feel better, about everything. Our whole relationship… it makes me feel better.”

He waits for a response, or at least hopes for one, but Even takes another bite of his food, each chew looking like a chore, and eventually the statement loses its importance and Isak realises that Even isn’t going to acknowledge what he said.

The atmosphere becomes uncomfortable, for Isak at least, and he finds himself uncurling from the sheets in Even’s bed, stretching out and saying, “I should go. Homework to do.”

Even gives a small nod. “Okay.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow, after school?”

“If you want.”

“I do want,” Isak says, smiling brightly, though inside he just feels tired. It’s important to him that Even sees he’s coping. “I’ll never _not_ want to be here with you.”

“Then don’t go now.”

Isak blinks, entirely surprised by this, and Even shrugs at him.

“Just… stay a while longer. If you… if you want to.”

And Isak does. He moves the breakfast tray aside and leans into Even for a quick chaste kiss.

"I love you," he tells him.

"Love you too," Even says back. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being like this."

"Don't ever apologise," Isak tells him.

He crawls into the space next to Even's body and curls up with him until it’s dark outside again. For a while he’s able to shut the world out and focus on the easy rhythm between them that makes his body feel softer and his mind less active.

For now, it’s enough.


	2. Certain Things Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Thank you for your comments on the previous chapter (I'll try to get them replied to soon, but I figured you'd prefer the next chapter to my responses!)
> 
> A few people expressed concerns about Isak's friends not believing him, and to be honest this chapter is even worse for it. What I would say is that none of them are being deliberately malicious or uncaring; Isak isn't explaining what he's going through and, yes, they're being bad friends by not noticing, but that's unfortunately quite true to life sometimes (as we're seeing at the moment with Sana and the girl squad in S4.) They will be made aware of their actions by the end of this fic and they will make amends. I'm not trying to demonise them here.
> 
> Please heed the trigger warnings for this chapter in the end notes if you're likely to need them; they contain spoilers but this is a very heavy going chapter with some upsetting scenes. I promise next chapter will address all of this in a responsible way.
> 
> As always, your comments encourage me to continue writing and getting better so please let me know if you enjoy. <333

Monday morning comes without any warning and Isak finds himself drifting through the school to his locker, his mind numb and his eyes unfocused. It feels like it hurts to lift his eyelids. He didn’t sleep well again; two days of lounging around in bed with no physical activity will kind of do that to a person.

He’s been ignoring his phone, and that’s had an effect on him too. He’d tossed and turned all night with the anxiety building of what people will say to him today. He’s sure it won’t be anything good.

He grabs his books for the day and shoves them into his backpack, trying to work out how to respond if anyone asks him about Nils. He should have done this before; planned a strategy to get through this. Been ready to defend himself about Nils. But as usual he’s allowed to mind his drift, putting off the inevitable, and now he’s here and defenceless. He needs to do something about it.

 _And the drugs_ , his brain reminds him. _You need to do something about the drug situation._

 _Shit_ , the drugs. He’d almost forgotten about that.

What a fucking _mess_ this is.

He’s sure he isn’t simply being paranoid when a group of first years walk past, their voices lowering into amused giggles when they see him. He wonders if the whole school is talking about him. Nobody usually gives a shit about Isak, but Even is kind and popular and well liked by everyone. Since being with him, Isak has definitely noticed people looking at him more.

 _What a slut_ , they’re probably saying. _Cheated on his sweet, depressed boyfriend at a party on Friday night._

He needs to put this right. But how? How can he prove he didn’t do anything with Nils?

And then it hits him:  _V_ _ilde_. He needs to find Vilde.

He wanders aimlessly through the school, checking the time to see there’s just under ten minutes before first period. Quickening his pace, he goes outside where the sun is shining and the air is crisp. It’s a perfect spring day but he can’t find it in himself to appreciate it in the slightest.

Eventually he finds Vilde with the other girls, sitting on one of the picnic benches and huddled together in conversation.

 _Don’t go over there and accuse her. Just… be calm. Ask what she saw without making it sound like you’ve got something to hide_.

He curls his hands nervously around the straps of his backpack and strides over with more conviction than he feels.

“Hi!” he says, a little too brightly. They all look up at him guiltily, immediately falling silent. “Talking about me?” he jokes. None of them think to deny it and he slides in awkwardly next to Eva. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“We’re just concerned about you, Isak,” Eva says, finally breaking the silence as she turns to look at him, pushing some hair from her face. The others nod in agreement. “Some of the stuff people are saying about you, and how you’re coping with-”

“It isn’t true,” Isak says quickly. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. Vilde, I needed to ask you what you saw.”

Vilde looks at him with a flushed expression on her face. “I haven’t _lied_ about you, Isak.”

“I didn’t say you lied! I just… you said I hooked up with Nils, but I didn’t.”

“But I saw you in the bathroom. You were kissing.”

“It was just...” _He forced you._ “He was drunk, and I…” _You didn’t push him away quickly enough. You made him believe you wanted it. You made_ Vilde _believe you wanted it._

He hitches his breath, wishing he didn’t have to explain this to people who should know him better. But as he pauses, trying to work out the best way to minimise this conversation while still convincing them not to pursue it further, they’re interrupted by Jonas who approaches the bench with a dark expression on his face.

“Isak, a word?”

Isak takes in the flashing eyes and downturned mouth and his heart sinks.

“What about?”

“I’d prefer not to do it here,” Jonas tells him. Isak looks down from his face, then, to see him clutching a t-shirt. “It’s about-”

“What’s that?” Chris asks bluntly, pointing out the item of clothing. “Some raggedy old t-shirt?”

“Isak?” Jonas tries again, ignoring her. Isak shuffles uncomfortably on the bench.

“I have nothing to-” he starts, and Jonas sighs meaningfully, already knowing what he’s going to say.

“You want to do this here?” he asks. Isak gives a small, reluctant nod. “Okay, if you want to, let’s just do it. Nils gave this to me. I just confronted him because you told me he was lying about you. I thought-” he takes a quick, annoyed sigh. “I believed you, man, I thought you were telling me the truth.”

Isak shakes his head, clueless.

“Isak, you told me nothing happened with him. But he said you left this at his place on Friday.”

Isak laughs nervously. “That’s ridiculous. I _didn’t_ take my t-shirt off around him!”

The girls are taking in the situation with wary, cautious eyes and Isak stands up, leaning over to the grab the offending article from his best friend. He looks at it for a few seconds, recognising it as one of his own, and he frowns, wondering how the hell Nils got hold of this.

And then it hits him: the only class they take together is gym. The other day he’d returned to his pile of clothes to find a t-shirt missing. He’d had to wear his hoodie over his bare skin as he’d walked home, figuring one of the other guys had picked it up by accident.

 _Wow_.

The thought of Nils rifling through his things makes him feel sick. His skin, where he’s scrubbed at it too hard these last few days, feels like it’s burning. The burning sensation travels up to his face and he turns away, trying not to let him see.

But they’re all waiting for him to speak. He could tell them the truth, but then he would have to explain this whole situation. He’d have to explain that his privacy has been violated, that he was forced into a kiss he didn’t want, and a situation he doesn’t feel as though as he has any control over.

And he just doesn’t feel strong enough to do that with so many pairs of eyes on him in this moment.

So he lies. And it’s the worst fucking course of action he could have taken, as it turns out.

“This isn’t my t-shirt,” he says, turning back to face them. He throws it on the bench where the girls stare it questioningly. “Nils is just fucking with you, man.”

Jonas looks at him for a few seconds, and it feels like a lifetime. Blood rings through Isak’s ears. _Please let him believe me._

“You’ve never seen this t-shirt?”

Isak frowns, and shakes his head.

“Isak, this is _my_ t-shirt. I lent it to you, like, two weeks ago.”

Isak looks at it again, his hands trembling. He’s so tired. He didn’t even think. But yes, now Jonas has said it, he remembers. He remembers borrowing it from him when he was last at his house, getting ready to go out somewhere. He’s borrowed it a ton of times in the past.

Jonas takes a deep breath, as if he’s trying to control himself. “I defended you, man. I thought you were telling me the truth. But… I don’t understand why you’re lying about this?”

A terrible, piercing silence follows. They all look at him, and each other, in what feels a lot like embarrassed accusation. There is nothing he can say to make this situation better. If he tells the truth now, it will sound like he’s making it up.

He stands up, rubs at his drooping eyes, and mutters, “I’m sorry,” before heading inside to his first lesson.

He thinks he could handle Nils spreading rumours about him to people who know nothing about him. But his _friends_? His friends looking at him and not being able to see that Isak would never cheat on Even, not in a hundred, million years? That hurts. That hurts to the point of him not being able to articulate just how broken Nils has made him feel with so few actions.

 _They won’t know how hurt you are because you’re not telling them what happened_ , the rational part of his mind explains to him.

But all he can think about is describing what happened at the party, and having to expand on that now; to talk about how Nils acts towards him in gym class, and in the corridors when Isak is alone. He barely wants to admit it to himself. So telling Jonas, telling the girls… it feels impossible.

The only person he wants to tell is Even, because at least Even knows about Nils, and about Isak’s feelings towards him. But Even is battling demons in his mind that make Isak’s problems pale in insignificance. He doesn’t want or need to hear about any of this.

He has no clue how to fix this situation. It feels hopeless to him. And so he closes his mind off a little more, knowing even as he does so that everything will become worse and not better.

The inevitably of how this is going to play out now seems to paralyse him even further.

 

* * *

 

Magnus stops him at the end of the school day. Isak is walking to the school entrance when he hears his friend yelling his name and footsteps thundering towards him.

“Well?” Magnus asks. “Did you find them?”

“I’m sorry,” Isak says. The apology sounds so weak, and he can see from Magnus’s face that he’s thinking the same thing. “I… I can give you some money? I’ll talk to my dad about lending me some.”

 _Dad won’t even pay your rent this month, let alone give you more on top_ , he tells himself.

“That’s not really going to help me now, is it?” Magnus says. “They want the money and drugs back tonight. If they don’t get it, they’re going to… I don’t know. But it’s not going to be pretty.” He sighs. “Look, I know it’s… it’s just as much my fault as yours. The drugs were my responsibility and I fucked up by giving them to you. But I trusted you, man. And the shit people are saying, that you’ve given them to Nils and-”

“They’re saying that?!” Isak asks. “But… I _didn’t_. I didn’t give them to him. Why the fuck would I do that?” His voice raises at the end, a slightly hysterical edge to it, and Magnus glances down, embarrassed for him.

“Nils organised the meet up for us. He knew we were carrying. Maybe he just… I don’t know… maybe you were drunk and he asked you and you weren’t thinking.”

Isak stares at Magnus, feeling betrayed.

“I _barely_ spoke to Nils at that party, Magnus!”

“Isak, that’s not…” Magnus trails off, clearly hating this kind of serious discussion, that’s so vastly different to their usual gentle teasing of each other. “Look, I understand that this is a mess, but I spoke to Nils and he was really fucking _shady_ about the drugs thing. So maybe if you talk to him now and-”

“No!” Isak says. “No, no, no, Magnus, I am _not_ talking to him.”

The words are so vehement that Magnus takes a couple of steps back. “Isak-”

“This _isn’t_ my fault,” Isak tells him desperately. “Please just... “ He trails off when he sees Jonas and Mahdi approaching, their expressions horrified at Isak’s outburst, which they’ve just caught the tailend of. “Just tell me how I can help and I will. But don’t make me talk to Nils. I can’t do it.”

“We have to meet with them _tonight_ , Isak. Why can’t you just talk to him? What’s the issue?” Mahdi asks, confused.

“I can come with you!” Isak says, frantically. “I’ll explain it was me and they can-”

“That isn’t a good idea,” Jonas says firmly, cutting him off. “They’re already going to be pissed, without some new guy showing up and claiming it’s his fault. They’ll fucking kill you.” He sighs. “We’ll just have to explain, and hope they can give us a bit longer to raise the money.”

Isak slumps slightly, visibly deflating at the knockback of his help, even though he logically knows they have every right to be pissed at him.

They begin to move away from him, heading to the entrance, when Magnus stops one last time and says hopefully, “Please, just… think about talking to him. There’s still a few hours left.”

Isak’s face twitches with regret; he looks at the ground, already knowing deep down that he’ll do no such thing.

Judging from the disappointed look on Magnus’s face, he’s already drawn the same conclusion.

 

* * *

 

Even’s arms are his safe place. Since he was a child he’s found spaces he can crawl into, where he would compress himself into something so small and compact that he felt truly insignificant. It’s the only way he’s ever known how to respond to stress. But since Even, he hasn’t needed to do that. He feels safe in Even’s arms, he even feels small, but he doesn’t feel insignificant.

In the absence of Even’s arms he feels adrift. He’s forgotten the art of hiding. He feels ridiculous: a seventeen year old desperate to shake off the attentions of people watching him and talking about him but unable to find the right words to put a stop to all of this.

When he’s back in his bedroom, early evening light still streaming in through the windows, and his bed covers like a fort pulled over him, he forces himself to check his phone.

They’ve started on his Instagram. Of course they have. Because he’s done something truly terrible in their eyes. To the casual onlookers at Nissen, Isak is just the cold-hearted second year who went to a party, got shit-faced, kissed another boy in the bathroom and then did much, much worse with him. All while his depressed boyfriend stayed dormant at home, trusting Isak not to cheat.

_Gay people are cool but faggots like you are toxic_

_Gonna write your number on every gay bar toilet in oslo, that will keep you busy x_

_Honestly how could you? Even deserves so much better_

Against his better judgement, he searches for Nils’ instagram, following tags of people he knows until he finds it. The very first picture on there is a moment Nils must have taken without Isak seeing. He’s sat on Eva’s lap at the party, his mouth pulled into what looks like a self-satisfied grin, a shot glass empty in his hand.

 _You look like a slut_ , he tells himself. And Nils caption - the emoji face glancing sideways with a coy smile - only seems to confirm it.

Underneath the picture, the comments are even worse.

_He’s meant to be gay but I bet he’d fuck anyone that gave him attention_

_He’s a slut but he’s a pretty slut lol_

_Was this before or after he choked on your dick man?_

He looks at Nils’ followers. None of his friends follow him, none of them have liked this picture or commented on it. So… that’s a small blessing. But it feels like it’s only a matter of time before someone he knows starts picking up on these comments. And then what? Will they distance themselves even further?

He goes back to his own profile, hesitates for a few moments, and then deactivates the comments. He feels as though he deserves them, in a way, but they’re only going to lead to even more confrontation and right now he isn’t strong enough.

There are still text messages flooding through to him which he refuses to read. Instead he closes his eyes, willing his body to shut down. But his bed feels unsafe when he isn’t wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms. He curls up fetally, pretending Even is there to hold him.

In a normal situation, he could have waited this out. He could have waited for all the bad things to pass because he knew that Even would have helped him as soon as he was able to. But this isn’t a normal situation. Even might believe the rumours. Everyone else does. Even Isak’s best friend does.

And the real truth is... sometimes Isak tells himself that this is all a lie. A facade. That he doesn’t deserve the happiness he feels with Even, and that all it will take is a situation like this to dismantle the whole relationship he’s built his life around. His life that was miserable, until he met Even.

He still has no idea how he ended up with the most perfect guy in the world. And that confusion he feels when he tries to understand why Even wants to be with him shoots through his brain, it rewires itself as self-doubt, it trickles out like poison.

 _You just need to wait for the inevitable_ , he thinks.

He knows it will come soon.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up later to his phone vibrating continuously. _Jonas_. His finger hovers over the green call button before he switches at the last moment to red. He then puts the phone in the top drawer of his bedside cabinet.

It stays for the whole next day and the whole next night. It stays there while he avoids people, avoids school, avoids life.

When Eskild comes to the door to check he’s okay, he pulls the covers over him and mumbles that he’s sick.

Part of him hopes Eskild doesn’t accept it. But Eskild simply tells him he’s there if Isak needs him, and to come and find him if he wants to talk.

 _I do need you. I need someone_ , Isak thinks.

He’s unable to say it out loud.

 

* * *

 

Jonas: _You need to pick up. It’s Magnus_

Jonas: _Isak? Are you ok? Fucking call me_

Jonas: _We’ve finally finished at the hospital. Magnus was hurt. Call me when you get this_.

 

* * *

 

On Wednesday he forces himself back to school. His phone died sometime yesterday and he didn’t bother to charge it. It feels oddly liberating. Of course he’s worried that Even might be trying to get hold of him, but the fear of what people are sending him temporarily outweighs that worry and he pushes it down.

Students turn to look at him with curious eyes, and he sinks further within himself, not even heading for his locker; he arrives late and goes straight to his first class, thankfully free from anybody he’s on familiar terms with. He sits at the back and works diligently, forcing his mind to adjust to something rational and logical as opposed to the heightened emotions it’s been experiencing these past few days.

When Biology comes around during second period he considers missing it but… _no_ , he isn’t going to do that. He isn’t going to miss his favourite subject just because he’s frightened of what Sana might say to him.

He sits down in his usual chair, relieved he got there first so he doesn’t need to make the decision as to whether or not to sit with her. If she doesn’t want to be anywhere near him, that’s fine, he can deal with that.

But of course, she isn’t that petty. When she sweeps into the room she marches straight over and slides onto the stool next to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “Everything good?”

She looks at him incredulously." _That’s_ your first question?”

He blinks at her, then says, “Okay… what should I ask instead?”

Her frown grows, and her eyes are withering in their scrutiny.

“Are you for real, Isak? What’s going on with you recently?” She widens her eyes and tilts her head. “Did you even ask Jonas what happened on Monday?”

“I… I saw Jonas on Monday?”

“After school?”

He thinks for a moment, his mind feeling disconnected, and then he remembers. He lowers his voice and says, “The dealers?” And then his stomach sinks like lead. He didn’t ask Jonas how it had gone. He’d completely forgotten. And he’d forgotten because he was too wrapped up in his own misery. _Fuck._ How did he _keep_ messing up?

And the way Sana is looking at him… something must have happened. _Jonas_ , he thinks. _Jonas has been hurt_.

“Is he okay?”

“Not really. He was taken to hospital. Broken nose, apparently, and a fractured wrist where they stamped on it.”

Isak stands up, his stomach heaving. He presses a hand to his mouth. _Jonas has been hurt and I didn’t even know. I didn’t know and I didn’t care._

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To see him. To check he’s okay.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sana tells him, her eyes narrowed in warning. “Magnus might not want to see you right now. I’m sorry to say it but-” And Isak’s already sinking stomach drops out of the bottom at those words and he quickly cuts her off.

“Magnus?”

“Yes, Magnus.” She stares at him. “Who did you think I mean?”

He takes a couple of steps back as the teacher calls over the class for them to quieten down.

 _Magnus._ Innocent, carefree, sweet-natured Magnus. His friend, who had entrusted Isak with the drugs. His friend, who had begged him to talk to Nils. _Magnus_ has been hurt.

“Isak,” their teacher says. “Would you please sit down.”

But he doesn’t follow her instruction. He grabs his bag, barely paying attention to Sana’s concerned expression. and rushes out of the classroom. Hushed whispers and barely suppressed giggles follow him until the door slams shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

Isak: _Mags are you ok?_

Isak: _San_ _a told me during biology, I’m sorry I wasn’t around yesterday_

Isak: _I get you probably do_ _n’t want to see me or talk to me but I really am sorry for everything_

Isak: _Maybe I could come round?_  

Magnus: _Doctor says I need to rest. Sorry. See you around._

 

* * *

 

 

On Thursday morning he’s back at school. Magnus is also apparently back; he hears people talking about the cast on his wrist, and how bad his face looks. But Isak doesn’t see him right away, and Magnus has made it more than clear that he wants it that way.

He sees plenty of others, though.

When he’s coming out of the boys’ toilets during first break he’s suddenly shoved back in by one of Even’s friends. Thomas, who Isak knows has never liked him very much. He gets it. He gets that he isn’t on Even’s friend’s level; he doesn’t understand their pop culture references or their obscure knowledge on French cinema. He doesn’t really talk in the same way they do, with that self-confidence that permeates every gesture they make.

Still, they’re nice enough, when Even is around, and Even likes them, so Isak has always made the effort to be polite, Jonas actually jokes that Isak is politer with Even’s friends than he is with his own.

“Where have you been hiding?” Thomas asks him. Isak looks at him warily.

“Nowhere.”

“You’re not returning my messages?”

 _Yeah, you and half the school_.

“Sorry,” Isak says meekly. What else is there to say? “Things haven’t been great for me.”

He doesn’t really know why he discloses that, other than blind hope for a bit of sympathy, but if anything, it seems to agitate Thomas further.

“Have you told Even yet about what you did at the party?”

“No, because I didn’t do anything.” He says it with more resolution than he feels. Thomas is half a head shorter than him but wider and stockier; he uses his bulk to push Isak up against one of the sinks.

“You’re really going to lie about this? The _entire_ school is talking about what you did. How _desperate_ you must be to go for another guy while your boyfriend is going through his depression.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Isak says again, wishing for just a moment that _someone_ would understand what he’s trying to say to them. But Thomas simply laughs, of course, like it’s a funny joke.

“You think because you’ve got a cute face that you can get away with shit like this? That Even would just forgive you, and take you back like an idiot? I _promise_ you, Valtersen, when he’s back at school tomorrow, I’ll make sure that he finds out everything.”

Isak blinks at him. “He’s back tomorrow?”

He receives a smaller, more bitter laugh in return. “You don’t know? He didn’t tell you?” He whistles a low, impressed note. “Maybe he’s got more sense than I’m giving him credit for.”

Thomas brings his hand up to Isak’s jaw and grips it, jolting his head from side to side. “Anyway, when you see him, you’re going to tell him the truth. Like a good little slut.”

He sees Isak’s eyes fill with tears at the last word and for a moment he hesitates. Then he steels his jaw and says, “You’ve got a fucking nerve.”

He squeezes one last time before backing off. His footsteps echo as he leaves the bathroom, and Isak stands in mute silence.

 _Slut._ At least Thomas is being honest and saying it to his face. It’s more than other people have bothered to do.

He feels his heart beating against his chest, his body suspended in shock and disbelief at how unequivocally terrible this situation has become. This situation which Even is going to return to… _tomorrow_.

It dawns on him that he should check his phone. Even may have texted him; Isak has charged it since yesterday but still hasn’t checked the notifications.

So he scrolls through his messages but finds Even’s low on the list, and already read, pushed down by the abusive stream that’s followed these last few days.

Which means that Even didn’t feel the need to tell Isak that he’s back tomorrow. He hasn’t felt the need to to tell Isak anything.

Which means that he most likely knows about Nils. And that he believes Nils, just like everyone else.

 

* * *

 

At lunch time he tries texting Jonas for the eighth time since yesterday. There is no reply. Of course his best friend has every right to ghost him, considering the way Isak has behaved, but the sharp sting of rejection makes him feel utterly alone anyway.

Walking to the yard, he sees Vilde and Eva sitting on their own on one of the benches. He knows that he’s going to be the last person Vilde wants to see right now but something compels him to walk over and speak to her anyway.

She regards him warily, her tearful expression turning harder. At least, as hard as Vilde is capable of.

“Is, um, Magnus okay?” he asks. “I heard he was back at school but… nobody is replying to my messages.”

Eva lets out a small sigh at that, and Vilde continues to stare.

“I know I fucked up, okay… and I do want to fix it.” He shrugs. “I just have no idea how.”

There is a long silence between them and Eva is the one to break it. “Just talk to Magnus, okay? He’s the one that… that got hurt, Isak.” The _because of you_ seems to go unspoken.

 _I can’t. I can’t find him because he doesn’t want me to find him_ , Isak thinks. But the two girls are looking at each other uncomfortably and he knows they don’t want him here. His presence isn’t welcome anywhere.

He was responsible for Vilde’s boyfriend being assaulted. Nobody wants him or needs him.

“Thanks,” he says, swallowing away his hurt. “I’ll...  yeah, I’ll try to find him.”

Eva nods, and it’s the fact that she isn’t being cruel to him, even though he deserves it, that breaks him the most.

He tries to find somewhere to wait out the lunch period where he’s not exposed to random students passing him by and hushing their voices as they gossip about him; he heads to the back of the school where there’s a service entrance to the canteen. It’s always quiet here.

He takes deep breaths, trying not to think about Magnus, or the fact that his friends hate him, or the fact that abusive messages won’t stop coming through to his phone. He tries not to think about what Thomas has said to him, and how everyone believes it: that he’s some uncontrollable little slut who can’t go a day without his boyfriend before dropping his pants for someone he barely knows.

Mostly he tries not to think of Even, and the fact that he hasn’t contacted him once since the weekend.

A notification pops up on his phone and he glances down at it hopefully before he sees that someone - one of Nils’ friends, Alex - has sent him a link to a Facebook group. He clicks on it angrily, already knowing it will be something terrible, and sure enough he sees the title at the top (‘Isak V: biggest slut in school’) and then sees the comments underneath.

Over thirty people have liked the page. Some of them, he sees, don’t actually go to Nissen but that doesn’t make him feel any better. The thought of students from other schools seeing this makes him want to laugh with hysterical terror.

He swallows away the weird bubble in his throat, and puts his phone back in his pocket.

At some point, once he’s been standing there for over ten minutes, he begins to understand that there is no fixing this. There is no spell he’s able to cast that will reverse the last six days from existence. His friends will hate him now, regardless of what he does.

And Even... Even has most likely realised the truth, like Thomas said he would. So. Isak is alone. And that means nobody cares about what he needs to do in order to make this bearable for himself.

He takes his phone back out of his pocket and types.

Isak: _Hey, can we meet? I’m at school?_

Nils: _Where?_

Isak: _Out the back of the canteen atm_

 

Nils: _Wait there_

 

He props himself up against the wall, his eyes numb as he stares in front of him, focusing on nothing in particular, and understanding how horribly wrong this could go. He waits for over ten minutes; he knows Nils will be enjoying the prolongment of his misery.

When Nils arrives, Isak takes him in warily. He doesn’t really understand how one guy could have ruined his life so effortlessly. And with that thought comes another: _This is the boy that everyone believes over you_.

Isak looks at him and says, “I need the number for those guys. The dealers.”

Nils laughs at that. “Seriously? That’s why you told me to come?”

“Well I assume you’ve sold the drugs?”

“What drugs?” Nils asks, a smirk stretching his face out. Isak swallows angrily at that.

“The ones you _stole_?”

“Oh! You mean the ones you gave me, when we fucked the other night?”

Isak tries not to recoil at the words. He knows Nils is playing with him, seeing how far he can push Isak, and Isak kind of hopes he keeps going. Being expelled from the school, on top of everything else that’s happened, would feel absolutely fine if it means wiping the smirk off of this asshole’s face.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he asks. Nils laughs.

“It’s not that fucking deep, Isak. You’re hot and I want to bang you. I heard you in one of the toilet cubicles a couple of months ago, calling Even _daddy_ and I figured you were kinky as shit. Once I’ve got you out of my system I’ll leave you alone.”

It feels like he’s been punched. Repeatedly. He presses a hand to his mouth, disgust threatening to pour out, and shakes his head. “No.”

“No? No, what? No, I didn’t hear you? No, you’re not kinky? No, you won’t let me bang you?”

“I wouldn’t let you _touch_ me,” Isak says. “You’ve ruined my fucking life.”

Nils steps forward, anger appearing twisting on his face like a visor that’s shot up, and he grabs Isak’s neck, pushing him against the wall. “I have? How? Have I turned your friends against you? Your _boyfriend_? Then nobody would mind if I messed around with you a bit, right?”

And then his hands are travelling down to Isak’s waist, and all Isak can think is _I can’t do this again._

He pushes out blindly, his fist connecting with Nils’ nose. Nils stumbles back with a yelp of pain, surprised, and Isak hits out again, his knuckles scraping Nils’ cheekbone.

“You’re disgusting. And if you come near me again, I won’t need my _friends_ to knock you out,” Isak tells him.

He sounds a lot braver than he feels.

He walks away with Nils’ breath raggedly drifting through his ears. It doesn’t feel like this is over, not at all.

He heads straight to his next lesson, hurrying to beat the crowds that will begin to trickle into the corridors soon. On his way he sees Jonas and Magnus walking towards him and he stops just for a moment; he sees Magnus’s face - livid with bruises, one eye swollen shut - and he screws his face up, turning away.

Neither of them say anything to him in return.

 

* * *

 

Nils: _Still want to know where you can find the crew?_

Isak: _Yes_

Nils: _Okay I’ll find out for you._

Nils: _I’m sure they’ll be pleased to meet you :)_

 

* * *

 

Realistically, he knows why Nils is sending this to him. He knows that he’s angry, and wants Isak to be hurt, and that he’s on good enough terms with these guys to arrange for something bad to happen to him.

But part of Isak _wants_ to hurt. He wants to put things right for his friends but he absolutely feels like he deserves to be punished in some way for the things he’s done which ended up with Magnus being used as a punching bag and Isak being too wrapped up in his own problems to realise until two days later.

After school he phones his dad and explains to him how badly he needs the rent money for this month. He promises he’ll go to see his mum this weekend, but _please_ can he have the money tonight?

He has no idea how he’s going to pay the actual rent he owes, but as soon as his father transfers the money, he draws everything out of his account and pockets it.

It should be enough to pay back Magnus’s cut. And at least that means that they won’t come back to him for round two.

Nils sends him a screenshot from google maps with the flat number and he heads there during the early evening, catching the metro and then walking for the last ten minutes. He’s so tired that he can see colours drifting in front of him; the sounds of the city are dull in his ears and he wants to collapse for a hundred years once this is done.

But he presses forward, his hand tucked into his pocket, wrapped around his wallet. The other pulls his hood up, zipping his hoodie up so his neck isn’t exposed. He doesn’t want any part of him to look vulnerable.

When he reaches the block of flats, he checks for a buzzer and, not finding one, pushes open the entrance gate and walks through to a filthy courtyard, littered with rubbish. He walks up the stairs to flat twelves and checks the windows for signs of life.

There are lights on inside. He takes a breath and then, not finding a doorbell, raps his knuckle quickly against the door.

It takes over a minute for someone to answer. The guy who greets him is wearing a thin sleeveless vest, his eyes pointing in two different directions; he looks like he’s tripping out and Isak swallows in fear before saying, “Um… Nils told me that I could find The Crew here? I have some money for you.”

The guy nods at that and turns around, gesturing over his shoulder for Isak to follow him.

Isak really doesn’t want to go in here. He’d hoped that he’d just be able to pass the money to someone and then leave, but that’s clearly not an option.

He’s taken into a sparsely furnished living room, no more than a couple of old sofas and a table and chairs, a TV blasting out loudly in the corner. There are two guys slumped back on the sofa, the smell of weed and perhaps other substances heavy in the air, and two more sitting on the table sorting through bags of pills.

“The kid says he knows Nils,” the man who answered the door tells them, inclining his head towards Isak. One of them looks Isak up and down and then his mouth pulls into a smile.

“Nils?”

Isak nods.

“He normally arranges meetings for us. What makes you special enough to find out my address?”

“I’ve got some money for you,” Isak tells him. “I asked him where I could find you and he said here.”

The guy - presumably the gang leader of _The Crew_ \- searches his face for something and Isak holds his gaze, though every part of him wants to stare down at the floor. He flinches and takes a step back when the guy stands up suddenly.

“Do me a favour, take off your hoodie. I need to see if you’re packing.”

“Pa... _packing_?” Isak says, blinking. “I just need to give you this money and leave.” He pats his pocket and the guy shakes his head.

“I’m telling you, if you reach into that pocket, I will fucking end you. Take the hoodie off and pass it to me.”

Isak’s eyes dart around the room, at the guys watching him, and he feels himself flushing in both embarrassment but something else. Something a lot like fear. He brings a hand to the zip of his hoodie and pulls down, trying not to let himself shake.

He’s wearing a loose t-shirt that gapes at the neck and leaves his arms exposed. He feels eyes on his skin, goosebumps prickling, and he futilely brings the bundle of his hoodie to his waist, needing something to cling to.

“Your beanie as well,” the leader tells him. Isak stares at him in disbelief and the instruction is repeated, louder and with more irritation. Isak takes it from his head and runs his free hand through his hair nervously. The man smiles. “Pass it here, then, blondie.”

Isak passes the items of clothing over to him and then stands there awkwardly, bringing his hands up to run up and down his arms. He knows the gesture gives away how uncomfortable he is but he figures they’re past the point of pretence now. These men know he’s terrified.

He watches as the leader rifles through his hoodie, bringing his wallet out. He checks Isak’s ID and reads out his name. “Isak Valtersen. Seventeen years old. Cute. We’ve got a little baby gangster here, guys!” The others in the room laugh at that, all except Isak. Then he takes the wad of notes out and flicks through them. “Who did you say this was for?”

“My friend… you beat him up the other night.” Isak doesn’t want to say Magnus’s name. “He goes to Nissen. Blonde hair. About my height.”

The man smiles in recognition. “Ah! Pizza face, right? With the black kid and the curly haired one?”

Isak nods in mute silence.

“They should have just sent you. I wouldn’t have fucked _your_ face up.”

There’s another laugh at that, from one of the men lazing on the sofa. Isak had assumed they were passed out but now he realises how out of his depth he is. There are five men in this room, all of them looking at him like so much fresh meat, and he walked into this like a fucking lamb to the slaughter.

 _Just like Nils wanted_ , he realises.

“It’s enough, isn’t it?” Isak asks as the man goes back to counting the money.

“Just about. With a bit of interest added. Yeah.”

Isak sighs with relief. “Then I can leave?”

“Soon,” the leader says. He puts the hoodie down on the table and Isak eyes it warily. “How’d you get this money, _Isak_?”

Isak stares at him blankly.

“He asked you a question,” says the man who let him in. He scratches his chest through his thin vest. “So _answer_ him.”

“It’s none of your business,” Isak snaps. “The important thing is, it’s all there. I’ve paid you back. So leave my friends alone. We’re finished.”

“I’m going to ignore the rude tone,” the leader tells him, closing the short distance between them. He brings a hand up to Isak’s face and runs his knuckle along his cheekbone. Isak tries not to flinch away from the touch. “You’ve got a sweet face. That’s useful to me. If you need more money, I think we can reach an agreement.”

Pure, blind panic makes Isak stay silent.

“Maybe if you’d had more money for drugs, your asshole friends wouldn’t have let you come here alone?” the man points out with a questioning tone. “Maybe they’d like you a bit more if you were more useful to them?”

Isak tries not to let the insecurity flash through his eyes but this man, with his cruel, sharp eyes, seems to see it anyway and he smiles. “Thought so.” The hand runs down to Isak’s mouth. “Nils told me that you’re a faggot, anyway, so I think we’re going to get on just fine.”

At the sounds of Nils’ name, Isak feels an alert rush through him. This man had pretended he hadn’t known anything about Isak when he’d first walked in. That means that Nils set this up deliberately, and these men had been waiting for him to come.

_Nils told them about me._

No. _No_. He is not going to allow this to happen.

“Go to hell,” Isak tells him. He takes a sidestep, attempting to grab his hoodie from the table, but it’s a stupid move; he should have just chanced it and headed straight for the door. Exposing his arm to the older man allows him to grab him with fast reflexes, twisting it up and pulling him in so Isak’s back is pressed against the man’s chest.

“Let’s try this again,” he growls, and Isak is pushed to the floor. Realisation dawns on him. They’ve already started to strip him. They’re going to…

But they don’t. He waits on the ground, his stomach pressed against the matted carpet, his breathing heavy. He feels a foot at the back of his head, pushing it down so that his mouth is pressed into the floor.

And then they begin to aim kicks at him. They crowd around him and take it in turns. The TV keeps blaring out sound, muffling his screams further. When one of them slams his boot into Isak’s rib cage, he temporarily passes out from the pain.

When he comes back around, his whole body is alive with pain except for his face. The gang leader hadn’t been lying about that.

“No, he might change his mind. So he needs to keep that pretty face of his,” he tells one of them, when he makes to slam his foot down on Isak’s nose.

Isak barely hears, though. The pain is like nothing he’s ever felt before.

He’s broken. It’s been building all week but here, in this seedy, dark little flat, it’s finally happened.

He closes his eyes, tries to picture Even’s face to get through this. He waits for them to finish but they take their time. Sometimes they leave him, and sometimes the leader stops them and asks Isak if he’s changed his mind yet.

Isak sobs and shakes his head, and feels another foot crash into his torso.

 

* * *

 

It’s dark outside when he’s finally allowed to leave. He can’t move his body well enough to put his hoodie on again so he holds it loosely in his arms as he moves down the street with laboured footsteps.

There is no part of him that doesn’t ache. The pain is constant and complete; it travels to the places they didn’t even touch. The worst is around his rib cage. Something feels sticky and wet when he breathes in and out. He’s sure that isn’t good.

They’d told him that if he changed his mind they’d be waiting for him. They told him that as they’d pulled him up from the floor and the leader had handed him his hoodie and pretended to brush him down, pressing sadistically into the bruises. “You took the beating better than your friend,” he’d said. “And we hurt you a lot more.”

Their laughter had followed him out of the flat.

By the time he gets home the pain is basically crippling. He edges towards the kitchen and searches for some painkillers. In the living room, he can hear laughter and talking and voices that are so light-hearted, it seems almost surreal.

He’s swallowing an the over-the-counter pill when Noora stumbles into the kitchen, her hair frayed. She looks tipsy, stumbling slightly over to the fridge where she reaches inside for a bottle of wine. She doesn’t acknowledge him immediately, and he painfully straightens up, trying not to let her see that he’s in pain.

When she finally notices him, her face turns cold.

“Apologised to Magnus yet?”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Isak says weakly. It’s the first time he’s spoken since they beat him and he realises it hurts to talk. His voice comes out in a sort of rasp which he tries to swallow away. She ignores it anyway.

In a way, Isak thinks it’s almost crueller that they didn’t touch his face. Nobody will know he’s hurting unless he tells them.

“You can’t go around waiting for people to come to _you_ , Isak. You messed up, so you should be the one to take the initiative.” She pauses, and then sighs. “And you should be honest with Even about what happened at the party. Stop… _evading._ Just own up to what you did. Maybe he’ll forgive you, maybe he won’t, but at least you both know where you stand then.”

She looks at him as if she’s expecting him to argue, but he nods. He has no strength left, physically or mentally.

“Okay.”

She purses her lips slightly, thinking he’s being obtuse, and leaves him in the kitchen. When he’s alone again, he props himself against the counter, breathing in and out raggedly, trying to steady his breath.

He just wants Even. He wants Even so badly.

But he can’t think about him. He _can’t_. Everything hurts too much already. He swipes at the tears forming at his eyes and convinces himself that this is all he deserves. Bruised ribs, openly judgemental comments, and an ex boyfriend who has finally realised that Isak just isn’t worth the effort.

He takes another painkiller and then heads back to the silence and loneliness of his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Graphic violence, bullying (both exclusion and active as well as online), slut shaming, threat of rape, brief non consensual touching, themes of depression, isolation and anxiety. 
> 
> Phew.


	3. Coming Back Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, so thank you for the enthusiastic respond to the previous chapter! I have to admit I was pretty worried people would hate it. Hopefully it didn't traumatise people too much, because I promised the concluding chapter would fix this, and hopefully you'll be satisified with the outcome.
> 
> I probably won't respond to the comments on the previous chapter, not because I didn't appreciate them but because hopefully this chapter should answer any questions you have. <3
> 
> Just a quick note to say that the chapter titles come from 'Certain Things' by James Arthur which was the song I had on during repeat when I was writing this. It's a beautiful song and very Evak so have a listen as you're reading. ;-)
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading! Please comment and let me know your thoughts. And next time I promise to write a nice, fun, smutty fic in this universe rather than a ton more angst! <333
> 
> Trigger warnings (and spoilers as a result) can be found by clicking through to the notes at the end of the chapter.

Even arrives at school on Friday morning to a sick feeling in his stomach that has built gradually since yesterday morning. His mind, still sluggish from a week of inactivity, seems to only offer half-formed ideas. He tries to shake himself out of it as he begins to scan the school yard for his boyfriend.

He’s sure Isak is upset; not necessarily with _him_ but at the intensity of the depressive episode this time. Anybody would be. Even his mum, who is entirely prepared for the variations in each one, had been affected; he'd found her crying with relief this morning when she'd heard him moving about to get ready for school. He'd engulfed her from behind, apologised (which had made her cry even more) and as he'd held her she'd told him, "I don't know how you grew up so strong."

Right now, though, he doesn't feel strong. He feels worried.

Even had tried. He’d tried _so_ hard to be okay for Isak when he’d come to his house and laid beside him in his bed. But his black, clouded mind always strips him of empathy. He was vaguely aware of Isak being upset when he’d left, and unlike the sweet texts he’s sent during Even’s other depressive episodes, his boyfriend hasn’t been in contact since Sunday.

Four days without Isak feels like a lifetime to him. And Even is ashamed to admit that the depression had poisoned his mind, as it always does, but there’s extra venom this time; a niggling thought that burrowed itself into his frontal lobe and made a home for itself there.

On Wednesday evening he’d received a message from Thomas.

_Can’t say too much but we need to talk about Isak when you’re better. He’s not good for you._

Normally Even would have gone straight to Isak, made him open up about whatever it was he was going through that had made someone talk about him in that way. But the message triggered some deep, insecure feeling that made him horrified at the very idea of saying something.

_He doesn’t need to know. Isak hasn’t done anything. Isak would never do anything to deliberately hurt you._

The next morning he’d felt just about strong enough to reply to Thomas with a curt response. 

_I’ll be in tomorrow, we’ll talk then._

His plan was ridiculous; he recognises that now as he stands in the courtyard, watching people stream past him. He’s waiting for Isak, or at least one of Isak’s friends, but he sees none of them. Some people greet him with smiles, others with weird, meaningful looks that seem to border on pity. He assumes his bipolar is an open secret these days; one well-intentioned person tells another, and they tell five more, and the illness is condensed into a _Hey, did you know_  gossip piece that people can use to feel better about themselves.

But as for  _his plan_... He’d not wanted to worry Isak by texting him. He’d wanted to see him today, put his arms round him and reassure him that everything was okay. He didn't think this plan through.

Isak is possibly not even in school. Even knows the effect his depressive episodes have on the younger boy. He pretends to be tough, pretends to be cut off, when Even knows the very opposite; he absorbs people’s feelings and attitudes acutely, he listens to every word people say. Even if he is in, he might try to deliberately avoid Even if he knows he's back. He'll be making assumptions, thinking that Even didn't care enough to text him.

Even quickly pulls his phone out and types. 

_Back now. Can't wait to see you later so we can talk xx_

He hits send but it doesn't make him feel any better.

* * *

 

First period draws near and Even heads to the classroom. On his way he sees Nils and Alex, discussing something by the lockers; Nils’ face drops slightly when he sees Even, but Even just smirks slightly at him, in the way he knows assholes like Nils find infuriating, and keeps walking. Presumably the second year still isn’t over their last _discussion._

He slides into his seat at the computer during ICT, smiling as some people say hello to him, some clapping him on the shoulders or just waving. Finally, Thomas enters the classroom and Even nods at him, wondering just how bad this _t_ _hing_ is that his friend is supposed to be telling him.

“All good?” Thomas asks.

“Yes.”

Thomas never actually asks him anything beyond _all good_ when things go dark for Even. It’s an empty platitude. Even knows he can’t expect everyone to deal with his bipolar in the sweet and considerate way that Isak does, but sometimes he wonders why he's friends with people who are literally embarrassed by the word bipolar.

They don’t talk to each other at first. The teacher comes over to catch Even up with the assignment they’re working on independently. Thomas is focused on his own project and types quickly beside him, his hands confidently hitting the keyboard buttons as he codes up an app he’s been working on.

Finally, after the teacher has left, and about fifteen minutes after skirting the subject, Even says, “So, about your text.”

Thomas nods. “I mean, you’ve probably hear what Isak did.”

Even shakes his head. “Funny thing about having a depressive episode, nobody seems to want to talk to you like a normal human being.”

Thomas pulls his mouth into a thin line at that, taking it as a personal criticism. Maybe it is. But he stays silent, not bothering to defend himself.

“So?” Even asks, raising his eyebrows at him. “What’s going on?”

He wishes he was talking to Isak about this instead. He doesn’t want to be hearing about Isak secondhand from someone who doesn’t really know him. Once again he mentally kicks himself for not texting Isak yesterday to arrange to meet with him this morning. He checks his phone to see if he's received anything since the one he sent half an hour ago but his home screen is empty.

“Well, last week, on Friday, there was a party. A bunch of second years.” Thomas glances at Even, clearly uncomfortable, and Even puts his phone away. “Isak… he cheated on you, man.”

Even laughs. It isn’t the reaction Thomas was expecting, and irritation flickers across his face.

“Before you accuse me of lying, one of Isak’s friends literally saw him. The annoying blonde girl who one of his friends is dating? She told her friends. It’s all over the school, man. And the guy that Isak cheated on you with, he even brought the t-shirt Isak left there to school the next day.” Thomas shrugs. “I’m sorry, it’s a shitty thing to come back to, but I knew that kid was trouble.”

Even shakes his head, another small laugh on his lips.

“So you heard all of this from other people. Did you talk to Isak?”

“Yes!” Thomas nods adamantly. “And he tried to deny it, of course he did, but I could see he was hiding something.”

Even feels like he’s heard enough. He saves the document he’s written two lines of notes in, stands up and says to Thomas, “Don’t ever try to interfere with my boyfriend again. Do you understand?”

Thomas gapes at him. “I’m just looking out for you, man!” His face twists in anger. “I _knew_ you’d believe him. He’s got you properly whipped, hasn’t he? Literally the whole school is talking about him and Nils, what they-”

“ _Nils_?!” Even asks, blood thundering to his ears. Thomas nods, confused.

“Yeah, that was the name of the guy he hooked up with.”

Even grabs his bag, ignoring the teacher calling his name as he heads for the classroom door. Once outside he runs back to the place he’d seen Nils, hoping he’ll still be there, but the second year boy is gone, and the corridors are empty.

Next he hurries to Isak’s biology classroom and peers through the window. He sees Sana, looking despondent, but no Isak next to her; he scans the class quickly to see if Isak is sat somewhere else but he can’t see the familiar blonde curls or a distinguishing snapback. As he's looking, Sana notices him; she glances across at the teacher but the class seems to be milling around, preparing for some project, and nobody notices when she heads over to the door quickly and comes outside to talk to Even.

"You're back?"

"Where's Isak?"

"He didn't come in today. And he walked out of the class yesterday. Even, I..." She pauses, and he's surprised to see her confidence falter. "I'm sorry. I spoke to him harshly yesterday, it just came out. He might be upset because of it."

He looks at her, not knowing what to say.

"Tell him I'm sorry if you see him. He might be at home?"

He gives a brief nod, not really sure yet what he's apologising to, but a nasty feeling growing.  _Did anybody support Isak through this,_  he wonders.

The teacher calls Sana's name and she goes back into the classroom with an irritated expression on her face. Frustrated, Even pulls out his phone and tries ringing Isak but it just goes to voicemail. He breathes heavily, telling himself to calm down, that the last thing he needs right now is a rapid cycle for his bipolar after he’s just dragged himself out of a seemingly endless depressive episode.

He ends the call, clicks onto his message screen and types quickly.

_Please I need to talk to you, I’m worried about you._

_I know what Nils has been saying & I DON'T believe it but I need to talk to you angel. _

 He doubts Isak even has his phone switched on. Suddenly his silence this week makes complete sense. Even knows how vicious school gossip can be, and the thought of Isak being exposed to that makes something inside of him fire up like a flame to gasoline.

Making a quick decision, he heads back outside of the school, with the intention of getting to Isak’s place quickly. If Isak isn’t at school, hopefully he’s at least had the good sense to stay somewhere safe.

He’s heading down to the main road when he sees a familiar curly-haired boy on the other side of the street. Not the curly-haired boy he needs to see most, but one that he’s relieved to see anyway.

“Jonas!” he yells, and darts across the street without taking the traffic in. Thankfully nothing hits him, but a car does screech to a halt and he tells himself to get a fucking grip. He’d scare Isak if he found him while he was acting like this. He’s kind of scaring himself.

“I assume you’ve heard?” Jonas asks, drawing to a halt. Even can see the discomfort on Isak’s best friend’s face; it’s normally there, anyway, as the two of them rarely see eye to eye very often, but now it’s magnified and Even tries not to snap at it.

“It’s fine. I don’t believe it for a second. I just need to find him.”

Jonas is surprised at that. “You don’t…. you don’t believe he cheated on you?”

“No!” Even fixes the younger boy with his most incredulous expression. “Jonas, this is _Isak_ we’re talking about?”

“I know! But Isak isn’t perfect. And I don’t think you realise just… Well, just how much pressure your episodes put on him. The cheating thing, it happened, okay? Vilde saw them in the bathroom together, and for all her faults, she isn’t a liar.” He pauses. “Plus, he lied about the t-shirt. Said he didn’t recognise it, but it was mine. I’d lent it to him. So.”

Even just stares at him.

“Look, Isak is my best friend and I love him but… he’s been kind of a mess this week, Even. Not just about the cheating stuff. There’s… well, there’s more to it. I honestly feel like you’ve been a bit irresponsible in making him _so_ dependent on you, because he falls apart when you’re not there.”

The words feel like a slap. But that’s probably the point. Even knows that Jonas isn’t a bad person, that he probably thinks he’s acting in Isak’s best interests right now, but Even has to bite his tongue at the ignorance he hears pouring from Jonas’s mouth.

“Fuck you,” Even tells him, not bothering to expand on why. Jonas’s face hardens at the harsh words and he shakes his head.

“Likewise.”

Even edges past him to continue walking down the road when Jonas says, “Is that Isak?”

Even turns to see Jonas pointing to the school entrance. There they see Isak’s familiar form: he has a hoodie pulled up over his hair, but it’s undeniably him. Something is wrong, though. He’s walking way too slowly, even for someone who is probably dreading going into to school, and his posture is off. He’s almost stooped over.

Jonas follows him as they cross the road and head back towards the school. “Isak!” Even calls, and he watches as his boyfriend turns, painfully slowly, back to face him.

When they get closer, Even can see immediately that he was right: something is _really_ wrong. He looks at Isak and asks him, “What’s happening?”

Isak’s face is pale; he looks almost feverish. That would explain why he’s late to school. “I just-” Isak looks at Jonas, trying not to settle his eyes on Even. “I just wanted to apologise.”

Jonas groans beside him, and it’s a hostile sound that surprises Even. Jonas is never normally rude to Isak. “Save it, okay? It was Magnus you should have been apologising to.”

Isak nods at that. Even’s eyes search his face but Isak continues to pointedly ignore him. “I know. And I… I fixed it. I went to see them. I gave them the money.”

“What money?” Even asks. He looks at Jonas. “What’s going on? What happened to Magnus?”

But Jonas ignores him as well. He’s looking confused. “Isak, we already _gave_ them the money. Tuesday night. Magnus got a loan from his parents.”

Isak’s mouth drops open and he sways slightly on his feet. “Oh.” He swallows, the breath catching at his chest. It looks like he’s struggling to breathe properly. “Then-” He looks like he’s having trouble forming the words. “I… you should have told me.”

“You know what?” Jonas says. “I can’t deal with you at the moment. If _you_ had fucking talked to _me_ , or Magnus, this wouldn’t have even-” And then he takes a breath, trying to calm himself. “So they took the money from you?”

Even watches Isak, still not understanding the conversation in the slightest but not able to tear his eyes away from his boyfriend’s pale face. The more he looks at him, the more he realises that Isak doesn’t have a fever, or a cold, but nonetheless something is very, very wrong.

“I tried to fix it,” Isak says, and his voice is pleading. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

And then he sways, but this time he doesn’t straighten up again; he just…  _falls_. But Even grabs him before his body hits the floor, and Isak lets out a strangled noise of pain that almost makes Even drop him instinctively for fear of hurting him further. He lowers him to the ground and then looks up at Jonas who is staring with a grim look of realisation.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jonas says, and tears begin to stream down his cheeks. He crouches down beside Even, trying to jostle him to one side, but Even remains planted on the ground, his hands at Isak’s face, trying to work out what’s happened to his angel.

“Talk to me, baby,” Even urges him. “Open those eyes for me.”

“Isak,” Jonas says, his breath hitched. “Issy, please, I’m sorry. Tell me what they did to you.”

But Isak’s eyes stay closed, his breathing barely audible. When Jonas reaches for Isak’s hoodie and pulls the bottom up, he makes a pained noise that sounds a lot like a choked sob. Even looks to see what he’s staring at: there are vivid, ugly bruises littering his entire stomach. They both stare for a second, realisation dawning on them, before Even moves back to Isak’s face.

Even stays beside his boyfriend, stroking his hair, trying to stay calm while inside he feels something ugly and cataclysmic build. He vaguely hears Jonas calling for an ambulance but all Even can focus on is his boyfriend’s beautiful, unmarked face, white with pain.

“Stay with me,” he tells Isak. “It’s going to be okay. I promise it’s going to be okay.”

 

* * *

 

The wait at the hospital is tortuous. Even and Jonas wait for news, sat opposite one other, neither of them speaking. Jonas looks blank, defeated, as if everything he knows has been wrong. Even has a hundred questions he wants to ask him but none of them seem relevant while Isak is laying unconscious in a hospital bed.

After about half an hour, a doctor comes out with a reassuring expression on her face. Still, Even refuses to believe it until she says, “He’s sleeping now. He’s going to be absolutely fine.”

They both spring up from their seats to talk to her.

“What happened to him?” Even asks. Jonas watches the doctor carefully, remaining silent.

“He’s been physically assaulted. He has lots of bruising and a fractured rib cage which is why he was in so much pain.” She looks at the two of them. “I assume he’s a minor? Who is his legal guardian?”

“His parents,” Even answers. “But he doesn’t live with them. It’s… complicated.”

She looks unconvinced by this explanation, explaining that she really can’t let them see Isak until she’s established where his parents are. But Even is more focused on the the words ‘he’s going to be fine’ followed by her easy explanation of what happened to him. None of this is easy, though. His boyfriend - his sweet, soft boyfriend, who tries so hard not to be noticed by people he doesn’t trust each and every day - has been attacked.

_And nobody was around to help him._

Even gives the doctor a number for Isak’s dad and she scribbles it down on her notepad before telling them she’ll be back soon.

Even and Jonas are left facing one another, and Jonas speaks to Even for the first time since the ambulance had arrived. “This… this isn’t your fault, Even. If that’s what you’re thinking. You’re not to blame.”

He laughs out loud at that, and Jonas looks embarrassed for him, which only makes him laugh more bitterly.

“You think that’s what I’m telling myself? That I should have been there for him even though I couldn’t move out of my bed?” He sneers, and he knows it’s an ugly expression but it’s how he feels. He’d _never_ assumed that Isak’s friends had been capable of neglecting him, and now he knows the truth, hatred fills up every part of him.

“It’s you,” he tells Jonas. “You’re the one I blame. I thought he’d be safe with you. Tell me, did you even _talk_ to him about what happened with Nils?”

He clenches his hands into fists, wanting so badly to hit out at Jonas, to show him exactly what he thinks about his bullshit idea of friendship. But he doesn’t want to get kicked out of the hospital. He takes a breath and walks away, listening to Jonas’s protests.

“I tried,” the younger boy says weakly, his face sunken in shame he realises the full extent of Even’s anger. “He wasn’t… he was acting weird. All week. And then he lied about the t-shirt and-”

“Maybe he didn’t think you’d believe him? Did you ask him if he wanted it? Did you take him somewhere quiet, give him a chance to explain what it was he went through at the party?”

Jonas shakes his head, swallowing tightly.

“Did _anyone_?”

“I… I don’t think so.” He pauses. “But the t-shirt… that was _my_ t-shirt, Even.”

“You do realise they have gym class together?”

Jonas’s face drops even further. He looks defeated. And it doesn’t make Even feel any better.

“Do you know what?” he says angrily. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want anybody here. Isak’s in a fucking hospital bed right now and I don’t _understand_ how you and his friends let this happen but I’m sure as fuck not going to let you upset him any further.”

For a moment, he thinks Jonas will argue; he opens his mouth to say something, his eyes flashing. And then something seems to take hold of him, he thinks better of it, and he gives a small, curt nod before walking away.

 

* * *

 

When he’s finally given permission to see Isak (“His dad is happy for you to take care of him for now, he’ll arrange to see him later,” the doctor tells Even, with barely concealed disdain for Isak’s father; Even thinks she should get in fucking line), he’s taken to a small hospital room where Isak is propped up in bed, his eyes open as he stares straight ahead.

Even sits down next to him and smiles.

“Hey.”

Isak looks at him, his expression remaining guarded, and Even can’t stop himself; he leans in gently, careful not to touch Isak on any part of the body where it may still hurt, and brushes their noses together before planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s soft lips. He doesn’t feel them part but he wasn’t expecting them to.

“Is it painful?” Even asks, and Isak shrugs half heartedly.

“The painkillers are better here.” It isn’t a yes or a no but Even takes it. “You look better, anyway,” Isak tells him. “Since… the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah. I’m… I’m sorry for… well, how shitty this episode was. I don’t know why it got that bad.”

Isak nods, and Even realises that Isak will be overthinking this; he’ll be wondering if it was something he did to make the depression worse this time. So Even takes one of his hands carefully and says, “It doesn’t mean anything, though. Sometimes they’re manageable and sometimes they’re not. There was nothing in my life that made it worse this time. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

He sees Isak’s defences drop slightly at that, and he continues, “Maybe it’s _because_ I’m so happy that this felt so bad in comparison.”

He leans forward for another kiss, but Isak turns his cheek to one side. The small, automatic gesture makes Even feel terrible.

“I’m sorry for not getting in contact with you this week,” Even says. “I was insecure and… I wasn’t thinking. I know you’re strong and I know I martyr myself and… just... I need to be better at opening up to you when I’m vulnerable.”

Isak gives another small shrug.

_Think about the positives_ , Even tells himself. _Focus on what’s important._

“Jonas didn’t stay?” Isak asks after a short moment of silence. Even shakes his head.

“I told him to go.”

Isak nods, not questioning it, and Even is surprised by that. “He told you what I did, then?”

Even thinks about how to answer this, but Isak continues talking to fill the silence.

“What everyone is saying I did, anyway. With Nils.” Isak frowns. “Or maybe you knew. I don’t know. When you didn’t get in contact with me I figured…” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to hear about it from someone else.”

“Isak, did you see the message I sent you this morning?”

Isak shakes his head.

“I told you in it that I don’t believe anything they’re saying about you and Nils. Because I _know_ you, okay? I know you wouldn’t do that, to yourself or to me.”

The look of confusion from Isak breaks Even’s heart. He knows Isak’s face, he knows his expressions. And he sees in that moment that Isak hadn’t expected Even to believe him. He’d been preparing himself for a break up. That’s why he’s been so off with him this entire conversation.

_Fuck_.

And the next thing Even is aware of, Isak has started to cry.

“I thought-” Isak sobs, and Even leans across to rub his thumb against Isak’s high cheekbone, catching a tear on it. “Nobody believed me. I didn’t know how to talk about it. I just wanted to talk to you so badly.”

“What happened? What did Vilde see? Can you tell me?”

“I was drunk,” Isak tells him, and Even already feels himself tensing up, “I shouldn’t have been at that party but the guys were just… I didn’t want to let them down. I was drunk and sad and Nils found me in the bathroom, he kissed me and I-” He clearly wants to take a deep breath but Even can see how much it’s hurting him to do so. He moves his hands to Isak’s hair and strokes, encouraging him to calm himself. “I blanked out. I should have told have no straight away but it got to me, all of it.”

Even puts his anger to one side, filing it for another time. He thinks in that moment he may actually kill Nils for this; if he was here right now, the possibility would rise exponentially.

"Isak, it was  _not_ your fault for blanking out. It was  _not_ your responsibility to tell him no. You get that, right?"

Isak refuses to respond and Even decides to change the subject for now.

“So you think Vilde saw that?”

Isak nods.

“And the t-shirt? He took it during gym class?” 

Isak lets out a small sob of relief and nods again. “They just… they all believed him. The whole school. And I didn’t know how to explain it. What Nils did to me, I mean. I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing it with everyone, and even if I did, I didn’t know who would believe me and who wouldn’t.”

The anger continues to build in Even; once again he puts it firmly to one side. He’d trusted Isak’s friends not to hurt him; he thought they all knew how fragile Isak was beneath his grumpy, standoffish exterior. Even sees it in Isak every time he looks at him. How could the other people in Isak’s life have failed him so badly?

“And then what happened with Magnus? Why was Jonas talking to you that way outside of the school?”

Isak lets out a small, frustrated groan. “Drugs. Magnus, Jonas and Mahdi were loaned some weed by this gang called The Crew; they were meant to sell it off and give back some of the profits and anything they hadn’t sold. Magnus asked me to look after his stash and Nils stole it from me.”

“So they beat Magnus up?”

Isak nods, clearly disgusted with himself.

“And then you found some money to pay them back? But they already had done, and hadn’t told you?”

“My rent money.” Isak looks at Even with a small challenge on his face. “I know it was stupid. I was just…”

“You were hurting,” Even says, and Isak seems to slump with relief. Even hates the fact that nobody has spoken to Isak on these terms; nobody attempted to see why he was acting the way he was. Even knows that Isak isn’t the easiest person to talk to when he puts his barriers up, but this feels like an extreme form of neglect. How could nobody see that things weren’t right with him?

“Did anyone try and talk to you about this?” he asks. Isak considers this and nods.

“Yeah, of course. I wasn’t honest.”

“And why weren’t you honest?”

Isak tenses at that, thinking it’s a loaded question. _Fuck_ , Even thinks. He needs to be careful with how he chooses his words. He doesn’t want Isak thinking that he’s _in trouble_ when all Even wants to do is tell him how angry he is that nobody thought to dig deeper with Isak’s problems.

“I was just… afraid, I guess.” Isak looks at him imploringly. “I thought they wouldn’t believe me. Because people know what I am. They know I’m a liar.”

“Everyone lies, Isak. Lying is normal. But over something like this? Your friends should have trusted you. They should have sat you down and listened to you and asked you questions that didn’t make you feel threatened. Did any of them try to do that?”

There’s a long silence and then Isak starts to cry again with renewed force. “No.” His voice is tiny.

“Okay. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, Isak. We’re going to fix this. I’m going to look after you now.”

Isak looks so relieved to hear those words that Even feels an achingly protective pull from inside of him and he resolves to do this properly. 

“I think I want you to sleep now, okay? And I’m going to be here for you when you wake up. I’m taking care of you, angel, because that’s what you deserve.”

His voice is low and steady, in the way that he knows Isak needs to hear it. And Isak _does_ need to hear it; Even can see him visibly relax, despite the pain he’s obviously in.

Even knows they’ll need to talk about what happened with the gang who did this to him, but for now, Isak has done enough. Even strokes his hair methodically, running his fingers through it, massaging into his scalp, and eventually Isak drifts off, his breaths short and painful but less intense than when he’s awake.

After a little while, Even phones his mum and tells her what happened; she’s horrified, and tells him to ring her when Isak is discharged; she’ll come and collect them both at the hospital and Isak can stay with them for a while.

When his phone rings and he sees Eva’s name on the screen, he thinks about it for a few seconds before hesitantly accepting the call.

“Hey.”

“Even? Is everything okay? Jonas told me what’s happened.”

“Not really, no,” Even says. “He’s in hospital, Eva. He’s been hurt. Not just physically, either. He’s calling himself a liar, thinking he deserved for you guys to ignore him.”

She pauses for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry, Even. Please can I come and see him? Vilde too? We need to tell him how sorry we are.”

“You should have done that at the start of the week,” Even says quietly, not wanting to wake Isak up. “When it would actually have made a difference.”

“I know we fucked up,” Eva says. She sighs. “There’s more, Even. I don’t know how much you’re aware of; I’m sure you know about Nils by now but Vilde was sent some stuff that’s been posted online. On Facebook and Instagram. It’s pretty… well, it’s disgusting. We’re trying to get it taken down.”

“Who posted it?”

“Nils and his friends, I think.” She pauses. “And maybe some of yours.”

Even pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“Please… just…. Pass on our love to Isak. Tell him we know we fucked up.”

Even brings the phone away from his ear and ends the call.

Once he’s finished that, he thinks about contacting Eskild to let him know what’s happening, and that Isak won’t be home for at least the next few days, if not longer. But his anger at everyone who allowed Isak to go through this alone is still too potent in this moment and so he just shuts the world out, like he has this past week, but this time he is focused solely on Isak. It gives him far more purpose.

A hour or so later, a welfare officer of some kind comes to collect him in order to 'interview' him regarding his relationship to Isak. She asks a ton of questions about his relationship to Isak, his age, who he thinks did this to him, Isak's relationship with his parents; Even answers them all honestly and by the end he feels exhausted and anxious to get back to Isak.

_Please don't tell me I can't go back to him_ , he thinks. But she seems satisified with how he's responded. 

"We've spoken to Isak's father at more length. Do you have a safe environment you can take Isak back to while he recovers?"

Even nods. "I live with my mum and dad. My dad is away on business at the moment but mum works from home. She's already said she'll look after him during the day when I'm at school. Do you want her number?"

She tells him yes, and he reads it out to her from his phone.

"Is it okay if I get back to Isak now? I told him I'd be there when he wakes up."

She smiles at him, and it looks genuine. "Of course."

 

* * *

 

 

As evening begins to settle in, the duty nurse comes to tell Even that Isak can go home if he wants to. Even blinks at her in surprise as Isak starts to come round from sleep, .

“We’ve prescribed a course of painkillers for the next twenty eight days. There’s very little we can do for fractured and bruised ribs other than prescribing rest and recuperation. Isak may be more comfortable at home.”

She pauses, then, and says, “Isak? There is also the matter of a police report?”

But Isak just shakes his head, his eyes still drooping from sleep. “I don’t want to do that.”

Even feels torn between pushing it with Isak, knowing that morally it’s the right thing to do, and wanting to let him choose himself. In the end he tells the nurse, “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”

She looks at Even suspiciously and for a moment he realises that she could very well be assuming it was him that did this to the broken boy in her hospital ward bed. But then she looks at Isak and sees the soft expression on his face as Even speaks to him, and something seems to change.

“I’ll get some information for you,” she tells Isak. “In case you change your mind.”

She leaves them alone for a few moments and Even asks him, “Do you want to rest at mine tonight? Maybe even the next few weeks?”

Isak gives a small smile. “I’d like that a lot, yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Isak can’t manage the steps to Even’s cabin bed so Even takes him to the guest room and goes about making him comfortable. The duty nurse recommended that Isak sleeps propped up in bed until he’s able to sleep on his back, and so Even makes a wall of pillows behind Isak’s head while his mum hovers close by with homemade soup and crusty bread on a plate.

Isak is polite to his mum, of course, but when she leaves, he looks at Even worriedly and says, “I’m not sure I can eat this, Even. I’m not...”

Even looks him over, seeing he’s lost weight this past week. It’s another thing that nobody seems to have noticed apart from him. 

“I think you should try it,” he says, gently but firmly, and Isak acquiesces with a small sigh of doubt. “Here.”

Even slips onto the side of the bed that Isak isn’t occupying and dips the spoon into the soup, bringing it carefully to Isak’s mouth. Isak accepts it and Even sees his face fighting the urge to enjoy it. “Good?”

“Your mum’s cooking is always good.”

“I made it, actually.”

“Liar.”

“Me, lying?” Even looks stunned. “I _never_ lie, Isak.”

“You’re literally lying right now.” Isak giggles slightly and then his face sheets over with pain. Even mentally checks himself, annoyed for forgetting how much it’s going to hurt Isak to laugh or even breathe heavily at the moment, and he continues to feed him in silence.

When they’re finished, Even puts the tray to one side and says, “Is it okay if I kiss you?” Isak seems to think about it for a couple of moments, his face conflicted.

“I don’t understand why you’re not mad at me.”

“Tell me one thing you did that I should be mad at it.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “I can tell you… so many. I went to that party, I let Magnus give me those drugs to hold, I drank too much, I didn’t tell the truth, I was so stupid, asking Nils for the address of that gang, I-”

“Isak,” Even cuts him off, one finger against his lips. Isak immediately falls silent. “None of these things were bad, okay? None of them were your fault. Yeah, if I’d been capable, I’d have wanted you to tell me you were going to a party, and I wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere near drugs. Those are ground rules we have.” Isak nods, as if Even is validating his fears. “But I _wasn’t_ capable of listening, and you were under pressure as a result.”

Isak shakes his head. “No, it’s not like that.”

“It’s exactly like that. I’ve been… pretty reckless, to be honest. I know how much you get out of our relationship, and me being daddy to you. You respond to it so well. But I need to make sure you’re going to be okay when I’m not there for you. That you have someone you’re comfortable opening up to if you’re feeling threatened or afraid by something.”

“I have you,” Isak says, and Even nods.

“You do. Like… ninety per cent of the time, I’m yours. And that’s fine. Brilliant, actually. But if I’m not here, I need to know you’re safe, okay?”

Isak’s eyes become blurred with tears and he says, “Well, are you going to kiss me or what?”

So Even takes Isak’s face in his hands and puts their faces together and kisses Isak softly, until Isak is less aware of his aching body and more focused on what Even is trying to do to him.

When they’ve finished kissing, Even lays in bed with Isak until Isak has drifted off to sleep, his upper body almost vertical from the pillows he’s resting against. When Even is sure his boyfriend is out for the night, he takes the phone that they’d given him at the hospital, keys in the number that Isak has already given him for it, and begins to looks through the messages.

He wishes he could say he’s shocked by what he finds, but to be honest he was kind of expecting it. His anger, which he’d compartmentalised in order to not intimidate Isak, grows with each message he reads, until he feels nothing but hatred and violence for everyone who has either sent him this stuff or ignored the fact that it was happening.

Nils’ messages are the worst. At no point does he let his guard drop: anyone reading them would assume he was a typical horny second year. Not a sexual predator.

He clicks a link to a Facebook group that someone has sent him - undoubtedly the one Eva was also talking about - and he sees a group name that makes him feel nauseous, sees people calling Isak out for ‘cheating’ on his ‘mentally sick’ boyfriend. It’s ugliness that someone has tried to associate with his name and he hates it.

On Instagram, Isak has deactivated his comments but some of the worst have been screenshotted and put on the FB group with descriptions like ‘where’s the lie’.

By the time Even has finished going through Isak’s phone he feels almost numb with betrayal. Isak was going through this alone, and none of his friends had tried to help him. They only discovered today that this was even happening. It had literally taken Isak to collapse before they’d realised how much they’d fucked up.

For a moment he hates himself for having an episode this bad, for not being there when Isak needed him. But then he realises how ridiculous he’s being. Despite Jonas’s attempts to guilt trip him earlier, Even _knows_ his bipolar is part of who he is, that he won’t always be there for Isak.

And that should be okay. Because Even had always assumed that Isak’s friends cared about him just as much as Even did.

He checks his own phone, then, for the first time in hours, and finds a litany of missed calls and messages

_Let them worry_ , he thinks angrily. Right now, all he wants to do is curl up beside Isak and reassure himself that his boy, his angel, is safe and protected and that this is never going to happen again.

 

* * *

 

Later he wakes up to Isak’s soft, frightened moans. He blinks a few times, rubbing at his eyes, trying to shake himself out of his slumber.

Isak’s head is flung uncomfortably back on the cushions propping him up; he’s moving it from side to side and crying in his sleep.

Even grips his hand and Isak jolts awake.

“Sorry,” Isak says automatically. “It was a nightmare. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about… about what happened? What they did to you?” Even asks. But Isak just shivers, and then whimpers in pain, and then says, “I can't, Even. I can't think about this right now.”

_Just give him all the time he needs_ , Even thinks.

He squeezes the smaller hand again and Isak smiles weakly. They both fall uneasily back to sleep again, their hands still entwined.

 

* * *

 

The calls don’t stop the next day, or even Sunday, and eventually Even decides he should talk to Eskild to update him on what’s happened. The message will then get filtered around the rest of Isak’s so-called friends until they all feel suitably reassured that their neglect didn’t have too severe an outcome. 

So Even’s defences are on red alert when he answers Eskild’s third call that morning, and he tells him bluntly, “You can stop worrying. He’s fine.”

There’s a long, laboured sigh on the other end of the phone and when Eskild speaks, Even realises he’s crying. “I’m so sorry, Even. Please, tell Isak how sorry I am.”

“Why should I tell him anything?” Even asks. He’s in his own bedroom as Isak attempts to study in the guest bed. “You let him down.”

The line goes crackly, as if Eskild is pressing the phone too close to his ear, or nodding in agreement. “I know. I should have noticed. We all should have.” He pauses, and then says, “Everyone wants to see him, Even. To explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Even says coldly. “Tell his friends, tell whoever thought he was capable of _cheating_ , that they don’t get to just _feel better_ about this. He could have died because _nobody_ tried to talk to him, to check on him. I honestly feel like I’d be happy if he didn’t have to see any of you again.”

He doesn’t take any pleasure in the way Eskild’s breath becomes more laboured, as if he’s choking for air, but equally he can’t bring himself to care. “Isak is fine, okay? His ribs were fractured and he’s not sleeping well because he keeps having nightmares, but he’s safe now.”

He hangs up, jumping slightly when he sees Isak at the door, his arm pressed lightly to his waist. “That was cold, Even,” Isak says. Even looks at him and then descends the cabin bed, bringing his hands to Isak’s face.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“I’m bored. And the doctor said I should move occasionally.” He looks at Even challengingly. “You just changed the subject, anyway.”

Even sighs. “Can you blame me for being angry?”

Isak shakes his head but says, “No, I’d never blame you for anything. But those are still my friends you’re talking to. If… if they even want me as a friend, that is.”

Even presses their foreheads together, loving the way Isak nuzzles into his touch. “Of course they do, Isak. You’re the one who should be questioning whether you want to be friends with _them_.”

Isak rolls his eyes at that. For him it’s a no-brainer. He’s too forgiving by far, Even thinks. It's something he's never really considered with Isak before but he knows it's true. Isak forgives people because he doesn't have a high opinion of himself. It's a sobering though, but Even realises in this instance he should probably follow his boyfriend’s example; this anger he feels whenever he thinks about Isak’s friends genuinely isn’t helping anyone.

“Look… whatever they’ve done… Eskild actually sounded like shit on the phone, okay? Like he was devastated by what he did.”

“He didn’t even _do_ anything,” Isak says. Even looks into his eyes, smiling sadly.

“That’s the point.”

He wants to protect Isak from all of this, he doesn’t want him to have to go through anything of this nature again. But he can see how upset Isak looks at the thought of his friends being distant from him and he knows at some point he’s going to have to address this as something other than an over-protective boyfriend.

_Not yet, though_ , he thinks.

For now, he’s still going to wrap Isak up in cotton wool for a little while longer, and ensure nobody gets close enough to hurt him again. Because that’s what he needs right now. It’s what they both need.

He takes Isak back to the bedroom and they settle onto the mattress together, pulling the sheets over them. Even wishes he could hold Isak properly but it’s still far too painful for the younger boy, so he settles for taking his hand and squeezing, bringing it to his lips to kiss his fingers gently.

“We still haven’t talked about what happened when you went to the dealer's place,” Even says. He hasn’t brought it up since Friday night, when Isak had his first nightmare, but it feels unavoidable at this point. “I mean, obviously I know that they hurt you, but I don’t know if they did…” He pauses, not knowing how to say it. “I know that drug dealers can be scumbags towards kids with pretty faces. So did they try anything, Isak?”

He tries not to look too terrified at having voiced this question out loud. Isak immediately quells his doubts, though, by shaking his head adamantly.

“No. No, they didn’t. They… they talked about it. About selling me. About my face, and how they wouldn’t touch it in case I changed my mind. But the reason they were so pissed off with me was because I refused.”

Isak shifts slightly before continuing. “I wasn’t in there long. Ten, fifteen minutes maybe. They took the money, they intimidated me a bit, and then they… they beat me up. They were laughing when they let me go. They found it funny, that’s all. Like a temporary distraction.” He pauses, his pretty face twisting in confusion. “I don’t understand why Jonas couldn’t have just told me they’d already paid the money. He must have known I would worry about it." 

_Because he’s an asshole_ , Even thinks. Maybe it’s an unfair assessment but it’s how he feels right now. In that moment he understands that Isak's reluctance to talk about what happened wasn't down to the ordeal himself, but his anxiety around why Jonas had allowed it to happen by keeping information about the situation from him. “I guess he decided you should be in the dark for a few more days,” Even says, trying to be level. “He probably thought he was teaching you some sort of valuable lesson. Friendship is… pretty screwed up, sometimes. But it wasn't malicious, Isak, okay? He probably just wanted you to apologise to Magnus without realising you were going through stuff of your own.”

He pictures Jonas’s pale face, the way he’d apologised to Isak repeatedly as Isak lay on the pavement, unconscious. “For what it’s worth, I think he probably hates himself. And if you want to speak to him, we could arrange it, okay? But don’t be surprised if I can’t stop myself from being rude to him.”

Isak gives him a small, frustrated smile. “You and Jonas, rude to each other? Well that would make a change!”

Even growls into his mouth before giving him a long, deep kiss.

 

* * *

 

He reluctantly leaves Isak on Monday morning to go back to school; Isak is still in no fit state but Even is, and his mum definitely isn’t fooling around when she tells him that she’ll drag Even there herself if he has any more time off.

He’s still angry when he thinks about the way Isak has had to face this entire environment on his own, especially now it seems so utterly hostile.

Lessons move slowly. His friends try to talk to him, apologies to Isak still not forthcoming, and he ignores them completely; Isak’s friends all seem to find him in pairs or on their own and try to say sorry; he doesn’t ignore them _completely_ but he isn’t particularly talkative with them either.

When he sees Nils skulking with his friends in the school yard at break time he doesn’t think twice; he barrels towards him, punches him in the face and then punches him a few more times for good measure as he falls on top of him to the ground. He takes out every single piece of aggression he feels and honestly, it's fucking therapeutic.

Nils manages to scramble away when Alex and another guy he doesn’t know pull Even away from him, but then Jonas dives in, winding Nils with the force of the punch to his stomach.

The two groups stare at each other as other students mill around; Even says out loud, “I can’t wait to kill you, Nils. And believe me I’ll do it. I’m fucking _crazy_ , remember?”

Nils looks at him in genuine fear.

“By the way,” Jonas adds, “I hope you shifted those drugs you stole and didn’t do anything stupid like keep them in your locker. Because I’ve just reported you to reception and I saw the pastoral officer heading to your locker.”

“Fuck!” Alex says out loud, and Nils takes one last look at them before breaking out into a sprint as he heads into the school building.

Gratifyingly, It’s the last time Even sees him.

 

* * *

 

**One Month Later**

“Fuck, you looked hot tonight,” Even tells him as they lounge on Isak’s bed, the music from the party still trickling through to the bedroom. Isak lifts his mouth up for Even to plant a kiss on it, smiling slightly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You were so happy and smiley and content and I wanted to take a video of you to show you how beautiful you are.”

“You could have done. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Even pulls away and looks at his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, and Isak laughs in defeat.

“Okay. I’d have minded. But still.”

They kiss again, Isak’s lips opening for Even to push his tongue in. Even brings his hand up to Isak’s hair and strokes through it, and Isak opens up for Even completely, his body relaxing into the bed, his legs spreading enough for Even to settle in between them.

“Sure it doesn’t hurt?” Even asks him, and Isak shakes his head.

“A tiny, tiny bit. But maybe I like that.”

“Kinky little minx,” Even murmurs into his mouth.

They kiss for a few more moments, before Even pulls away again to check on Isak. It feels like over the last month, he’s had to do this more often and more meaningfully than ever, and that’s fine. He doesn’t want Isak to ever get lost in his own head again, to passively accept the bad things happening to him that he's somehow convinced himself he deserves.

“Did you talk to Jonas tonight?” he asks, and Isak nods.

“He’s said sorry so many times. Noora as well, and Sana, and Magnus, and Eskild, and Eva, and Vilde…” He rolls his eyes grumpily. “Seriously, I don’t ever want to hear that word again.” He shrugs. “I feel bad for Vilde, though. She really thought that was normal. Me standing there, not enjoying it….”

“She needs a girlfriend,” Even concludes with a smile, and Isak laughs.

“She does.” He takes Even’s hand and spreads their fingers out, comparing hand sizes. He smiles at how much larger Even’s are. “Wow, it’s been a weird week.”

Even knows what he’s referring to but he doesn’t expand on it. Isak had returned to school at the start of the week to a lot of contrite faces and quite a few mumbled apologies. Even made sure that everyone who had joined that Facebook group, or sent Isak a message, understood that the next time they tried to harass his boyfriend, he wouldn’t be nearly as forgiving.

At least Nils had gone weeks before. Isak won’t have to see him again, and Even is determined to keep it that way.

“Weird but okay, I hope?”

“Good weird. I thought coming back would be difficult.”

“And it was, but you did it.” Even runs his finger along Isak’s jawline. “I’m so proud of you, angel. I don’t tell you enough how good you are. How brave you are.”

He can see Isak is caught somewhere between rolling his eyes at how corny Even is being and basking in the praise that Even is giving him.

Even knows which reaction he wants, and he presses the point home, his voice dipping low as he moves his face even closer to Isak's.

“You’re loyal to your friends; you do so much for them, and you care so much for them, and they realise it now. Sometimes people just need reminding.”

“But they know I’m weak now,” Isak says questioningly. He looks conflicted. “I… I fell apart without you. It’s kind of… it’s embarrassing, to be honest. That they know that about me. How bad I am at dealing with shit.”

This time, Even catches Isak’s hands in his own, and counts on his fingers.

“First of all, you’re not weak. So get that idea out of your head right now. You’re gentle, way more gentle than people give you credit for, but you’re not _weak_. Secondly, it’s okay for them to see you vulnerable. There’s nothing wrong with people knowing that, so long as they’re people who care about you and don’t try to take advantage of it.”

“I just wish it could be you and me,” Isak answers truthfully. “You fix all of my problems.”

“That’s because you’re mine. I’m your daddy and I take care of you.”

“You… you still want that?”

Even looks at him questioningly, wondering where the question has come from. Then he remembers, albeit vaguely: telling Isak during his last depressive episode that he shouldn’t let him treat him like that, making him feel insecure about their relationship.

He truly hates his depression and the way it plays games not just with him but with the people he cares about. He _hates_ it.

“You can’t listen to me when I’m down, okay? I say shit I’m barely aware of.” He looks at Isak meaningfully. “I will _never_ not want it. I love what we have. I love looking after you.”

“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath in,” Isak says, smiling brightly. “I love it too.”

Even takes a moment to appreciate that smile. _Fuck_. He’s the luckiest guy in the world.

“See? It works. _We_ work.  But sometimes, if I’m not around, you can open yourself up a little bit, okay? You can talk to Eva, or Eskild, or Sana… they’re all good people in your life.”

“Not Jonas?” Isak asks, a hint of playfulness on his voice. “You still think he’s a bad influence on me?”

“I think that he’s a typical guy who gets weird about your pretty face,” Even says, equally playful, and Isak blushes. “But, I mean, he’s your best friend. Even if I don’t always see eye to eye with him, even when he’s wrapped up in that bullshit masculinity, I know he loves you. I’ll just… I’ll be keeping a closer eye on him now.”

“I’d rather you kept a close eye on _me_ ,” Isak says, pretending to pout. Even smiles, reaching down to unbutton his boyfriend’s shirt, checking for the faint bruises that still litter his pale skin. With each one he presses a kiss to it as he undoes the buttons completely.

Isak gasps faintly each time, and then Even pulls off his own clothes and undoes Isak’s jeans, pulling them off his ankles, along with his boxers, before continuing his journey from Isak’s chest back down to his stomach.

“I’m going to make sure you feel everything good tonight,” Even promises him. “You deserve to be treated like the angel you are.”

He presses a kiss to Isak’s lower abdomen and then takes his boyfriend’s cock into his mouth, engulfing it in heat. Isak is as responsive as ever, arching his back gently as Even sets the pace.

“Do you like that?” Even asks, as Isak’s body comes undone, his mouth slack and his eyes closed as Even takes him deep into his throat and then pulls away to ask the question again. “Do you like it when I take care of your body like this?”

Isak nods, blissed out, and Even hitches the long slender legs over his shoulder before running his hand across the curve of Isak’s ass. He parts the pale cheeks and looks up at Isak who is breathing heavily with anticipation. “You’re mine to take care of,” Even tells him. “Nobody else gets to tell you what to do. Nobody else gets to touch you if you don’t want it. Not like this. And definitely not to hurt you.”

He pushes his tongue into Isak’s sweet hole and Isak clamps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. Even wraps his hands around Isak’s thighs so he can make proper work of this. 

“Even,” Isak whines, “I need…”

“What?”

“Don't you want to be inside me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve still got those bruises.”

“But I-”

“Isak, listen to me. I want to make you come, okay? But I don’t need to be inside you for that. Let me treat you gently tonight. There’s no rush.”

Isak nods, his hand brushing against his eye as he looks at Even in wonder, as if he’s the most important thing in Isak’s world. It’s still such an ego trip, but the best kind of ego trip. Because both of them just _get_ it. Isak understands how much Even needs him in order to feel whole, to not just feel like he’s defined by his bipolar, and Even understands how much Isak needs him in order to feel protected. Safe.

It’s perfect. _Isak_ is perfect.

He adds two fingers to his efforts with his tongue, pushing them deep into Isak’s tight, welcoming hole.

“You’re so sweet. You taste so good,” Even tells him, and Isak moans as Even’s other hand brushes against his cock, knowing Isak is close.

He renews his efforts, stroking Isak’s cock occasionally as his tongue makes circles against the opening. Finally, with one last brush of his fingers, Isak releases, his cock pointed upwards as come spills over his stomach.

“You… you didn’t,” Isak starts to say, caught up in the afterglow, as Even comes to lie next to him on the bed. “My turn?” he asks, and Even shakes his head.

“I wanted to make you happy tonight. That’s all. Because you deserve it.”

He presses a kiss to Isak’s forehead and smiles. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Isak looks at him with half-lidded, soft eyes, and smiles back.

“I’m all you’ve got now, anyway.”

“True,” Even laughs. “Turns out your friends are actual saints compared to mine.” He pulls Isak’s body into the big spoon of his own, gently enough that Isak doesn’t even hiss at the full bodily contact. “Fuck them, anyway. Pretentious assholes.”

“I think Thomas wanted to fuck _you_ ,” Isak points out.

“Yeah?” Even laughs. “He’s not my type.” He feels Isak smiling at that. “I prefer pretty little blonde angels who try and take on entire drug gangs on their own.”

“I don’t know _where_ you’d find someone like that,” Isak says sleepily. “Definitely doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

“Good.” Even leans over and sees Isak’s eyes closing completely. He kisses his cheek and settles down for the night. “Because I can’t deal with a troublemaker for a boyfriend.”

He smiles one last time as Isak mutters sleepily, “Fuck you, daddy. I’m a good boy.”

And for once, Even can’t disagree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Violence and discussion of violence, themes of depression and anxiety, daddy kink, discussion of non con touching/kissing, injuries, ableism.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: Depression, anxiety, non consensual touching/kissing, minor gaslighting, discussion around drug pushing, some ableist thoughts/insults


End file.
